


Woven In My Soul

by Toxic_Lavender



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Cursed, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Gijinka AU, Human AU, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Sickness, Vomiting, chapter 3 is a sick fic, i WILL curbstomp queen vanessa, ill add more tags as I go, memories of abuse, single dad snatcher, theres more shipping stuff later on, tw time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toxic_Lavender/pseuds/Toxic_Lavender
Summary: Luke "Snatcher" Princeton is a young, single father struggling to raise his daughter, Harriet, on his own several years after leaving his awful ex-wife, alongside trying to balance home and work, and deal with his curse as a cherry on top.
Relationships: Cooking Cat & Hat Kid (A Hat in Time), Cooking Cat & Snatcher (A Hat in Time), Hat Kid & Snatcher (A Hat in Time), The Conductor & Hat Kid (A Hat in Time), The Conductor & Snatcher (A Hat in Time), The Florist/Snatcher (A Hat in Time), The Florist/The Prince (A Hat in Time)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	1. Daycare

Harriet sat by the table in the main room, watching the other children play. The children were tall and short, big and small, some younger than herself and some almost old enough to be an adult. All getting along and having fun, playing games with one another, watching movies, and eating snacks. Harriet would normally join in with them, but today she didn’t want to. It wasn’t because she was peeved at them, nor was she downtrodden- instead, she was just rather tired from playing with them before. 

She wasn’t like the other children. All of these children were orphans. Without a mother or a father, only each other and the owner of the orphanage, Mrs. Catherine. Though everyone had given her a nice nickname, for her love of cooking, and to which she generously accepted, “Cooking Cat”. The younger children would only be able to say “Cookie”, and thus, her new nickname was born. Cookie was a rather petite and round woman, to which she accredited to being a chef when she wasn’t around, usually at night. She cared for all of the children, memorizing each and every one of their names, and making sure they all felt at home. She fed all of them, gave them all rooms and roommates based on their interests, and did her absolute best to talk to all of them when she could. A feat to behold, given that there were well over a hundred or more children living in the town’s orphanage.

But little Harriet was not an orphan. She had a mom and a dad- well, a dad. She never knew her mother, outside of whatever her father would tell Harriet about her. Harriet was only a year or two old when her parents split, and she was only seven now. He never liked to talk about it, and Harriet didn’t push him on it.

As for why Harriet was spending her days in the orphanage, it was simple. Cookie was her babysitter. Her father was extremely busy during the daytime, working from before dawn until after dusk at the law firm. He never got to spend much time with her during the week days, when he’d get her up early, drop her off at Cookie’s, work until dark, pick her up, and put her to sleep. On Friday’s, he’d let her stay up as long as she could handle, and he’d be home all weekend.

Harriet got up, grabbing the small platter that once held about six cookies before coming to a certain doom with a hungry child, carrying it to the sink. She washed the plate off as to help Cookie not stress as much over the dishes, and then went off to find where the chef-in-question was. Harriet noted how dark it was getting already, remembering that her father had promised to pick her up before it was really late. He would be able to get off of work early tonight, he’d told her, but he planned on having dinner with a friend of his, and would try not to leave Harriet by herself for too long.

Harriet sauntered along the halls of each floor, looking for Cookie, trying to inspect any place she could be in. However, there were only children in each room, playing and reading and napping. Finally, little Harriet found Cookie, inspecting a fox mask one of the younger children had made with her.

“Mrs. Cookie?” Harriet squeaked from the doorway, not wanting to interrupt.

“Hm? Oh, Harriet, sugs! Whatcha’ need, hun?” Cookie stood up, handing the mask back to the young child and leaning down to Harriet’s level- though she was short enough that she really didn’t need to.

“When is dad coming to get me? Has he called and said where he is?” Harriet walked a bit closer, to which Cookie picked her up and held her over her elbow.  
“Well, yer dad did say he waaas tryin’ to have sum quality time with an ol’ friend of his, so why don’t we wait a little longer, and then try to call and see. Maybe… ten more minutes?”  
Harriet nodded and allowed Cookie to carry her into the living room, where there were only a few kids left. It was mostly the oldest kids, all taking a nap and lounging around the chairs or sofas. It was evident they were exhausted from trying to keep up with the younger children, as they all were wearing handmade masks, from the orphans’ game. Everyone made a mask and wore it, pretending to be ghosts and chasing anyone who didn’t wear the masks.

“Now, why dontchya sit here and take a nap with the big kids, m’kay? I’ll come and getchya when yer dad shows up.” Cookie sat the tired child down on the sofa next to one of the teens, before turning and heading to the other rooms to settle the children down for bed. Harriet tried to close her eyes and sleep next to her friends… but the anticipation of her father coming to get her was keeping her wide awake. She found that, today in particular, she really wanted nothing more than to sit with her father and play games with him, eat snacks, and listen to him read her stories until she fell asleep.

It felt like forever, when Harriet snapped out of her daydreaming trance to see Cookie tapping on her shoulder. “Come on, sugar. Yer dad’s here.”  
Harriet felt her mood instantly lift as she hopped up, mindful of the now larger group of older kids napping around the room, some now taking up space on the floor. She tiptoed over them, before gleefully following Cookie into the basement, which was completely empty- aside from her father, sitting in the middle of a couch, flicking through the channels on Cookie’s TV, holding a plate of breadcrumbs- presumably from a biscuit he’d scarfed down.

“Daddy!” Harriet hurried down the stairs and across the room, leaping over the back of the couch and straight into her father’s lap. The cursed man chuckled at his daughter’s enthusiasm.  
“Hey, squirt.” He ruffled her hair with his free hand, setting the platter down in favor of wrapping his arm around her and letting her cuddle against him, briefly. “How was your time with Cookie today?”

“It was great! The big kids even let me make my own mask!” Harriet smiled brightly, and her father’s ‘tired and blank’ smile melted completely.

“Oh, really now? Well, kiddo, go grab your bag and your mask, and we can start heading home.”

Harriet squeaked happily and scrambled over the top of the couch once more, bolting up the stairs- likely waking up those who chose to sleep on the floor.

“Ya really are good with children.”

He turned to look at Cookie. “What are you on about, Cat?”

Cookie giggled and looked up at the tall, imposing figure that towered over her. “Luke, ya know ya have a soft spot for kids, don’t try to act all huffy over it.”  
The well-dressed man groaned. “Not this again… Cookie, how many times do I have to say it? I’m not good with kids. I’m half sure the only reason Hattie likes me is because I take her to you every week. And I’ve told you a million times, don’t call me ‘Luke’.”

“Whatevah’ ya say, ‘Snatcher’.” Cookie rolled her eyes, before smiling back up at him again. “An’ if that’s the case, why is she so eager to go home with ya’ every night? Not to mention the others-”

Snatcher’s mildly annoyed guise fell into one of pure and utter fear at the sound of multiple hurried footsteps from above. “Oh,  _ hell. _ ”

“BOSS!” A stampede of what seemed to be all of the orphans rushed down the stairwell, aiming right towards the lanky lawyer- before the wave of children tackled him and brought him to the ground, piling on top of him and taking turns bombarding him with questions. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” “HOW WERE YOU AT YOUR WORK?” “CAN YOU PLAY GHOSTS WITH US?”

“Ugh, kids, come on… I’m gonna get a bad back if you keep knocking me down every time i come through the door…” Snatcher groaned, seeing his daughter standing behind the sea of children, bag in hand and mask on her face. He smiled briefly, before the other children once again shifted their weight on him and all started to try to talk to him at once.

He’d never tried to gain the affection of the orphans- but after he started leaving Harriet with Cookie, he started donating large amounts of money to the orphanage as he could- and, if he had time, he’d come around and even play with them. He discouraged them from calling him “Mr. Luke”, as Cookie told them, but they never liked calling him “Mr. Snatcher”, either- so instead, they called him “Boss” when playing their game, and it simply stuck. 

Snatcher finally fought off the wave of children, shakily standing to his feet with Cookie to help him. He reached for Harriet’s hand, grabbing it firmly in case the other children decided to knock him down again. “Sorry, kiddos, I’ve got to get home tonight. I’ll see about next week, okay?”

The children let out a disappointed whine, all in unison, their backs slouching and expressions dropping. Snatcher sighed. “Now, kids, don’t get all low like that. Here.” He handed one of the older kids a wad of cash. “Give this to Cookie, and, if you ask nicely, maybe she’ll use it on something nice for you all.” The childrens’ faces lifted, all beaming- and before he knew it, Snatcher’s grip on Hattie was gone, once again tackled by children, all of whom were hugging him and thanking him happily.

  
  


Snatcher closed the door behind Harriet, waving once more at Cookie, then turning to hold her hand as he walked her to the car. He straightened out his hair with his free hand, then reached for his keys. “Ready to go home, kid?” Harriet smiled at him, putting her bag and mask in the front seat before crawling into the back and strapping her seat belt on. Snatcher was quiet as he started the car, changing the radio to a soft ambience, and started backing out of the tiny lot. 

Rides home were often very quiet, Harriet came to learn. It wasn’t that they didn’t like talking- at home, there was nearly always a conversation between them. It was just something about a silent car ride… the ambience and the mood… they would both become sucked into the atmosphere.

Harriet knew her father was rather apprehensive, around children especially. But who could blame him? Harriet didn’t know the whole story… but she knew enough to know why he was so uneasy to tell her about it.

Her parents had met when they were young, and scarcely separated since. “Like love at first sight,” her father would say. He would bring her gifts and admire and complement her, and she would hold close to him and listen to him read and watch him paint. They rarely argued, and they got along so well. Sure, there were hiccups- no couple was perfect, after all- where the two would argue and disagree. Snatcher was never one for confrontations, however, and would often cave in to his beloved, as to not make her any more upset.

Harriet knew that some people were born with powers and that strange creatures existed in other places in her world- people who were part goat, some who all thought and looked exactly the same, and even cat people- and her mother was no exception, being born with strong winter abilities. She could create ice storms and snow, and was cold to the touch- or at least, that’s what her father said. But back then, he loved her, and he tried his best to help her keep herself under control.

But when he told her he wanted to get a degree in law to become a lawyer, and he planned to go abroad for a while… she didn’t take it well. She refused to talk to him for a few days as he stood his ground on his decision. But he got through to her once he promised he would write to her, every day. But things never got better, he’d say.

She started to want to make him perfect in her eyes. She forced him to do things her way, and kept him from whatever she thought wasn’t good for him. She forced him to eat how she wanted. Dress how she pleased. It got to the point where she was practically telling him how to live- but he didn’t care then. He didn’t care about himself. He was blinded by love.

When he came back the first year, they’d gotten married over the break. Just to make it official, before he left again. It wouldn’t be until he was already gone again that he’d hear the news that he would be a father. He made it a point to try to visit his new wife as often as he could to support her, even going as far as to skip a class or two to stay with her a little longer before heading back. He promised her he would be there when it was time.

Snatcher said they’d talk about her in their letters, discussing everything that they wanted to do with their new little child, all until the day came. Snatcher didn’t disappoint, sacrificing all of his day’s classes in favor of witnessing his child- now known to be a little girl- being birthed. He told Hattie he couldn’t lie when he said he cried when he got to hold her for the first time, seeing her little hands wrap around his fingers and watching her little expressions as she adjusted to this new world- her world. It broke his heart. 

Snatcher wouldn’t go into much more detail. He didn’t like to think about what happened after Harriet was born, but he promised he’d tell her when she was older. All he’d say was that her mother changed, and he had to leave her to make sure Harriet would be safe. When Harriet questioned why her mother wasn’t safe, he’d gesture to himself. “She did this to me,” He said. “I’m not who I used to be.”

That was true. He claimed he was cursed, his appearance being starkly different to the photos of him Hattie saw throughout the house. His skin was a deep purple, his hair even more so, rather than the pale law student with chestnut locks. Nails sharp like claws, fangs that stuck out when his mouth was closed, ears that looked like they belonged to a gremlin than a person. Just a few differences to those photos. Who knows how many other things about him were different. He promised he’d tell her one day. One day. 

“Hattie, do you know what day it is?” Snatcher’s voice burst Harriet’s thoughts, to which she shook her head ‘no’. “Oh, kiddo, it’s Friday.”

Harriet gasped in realization, suddenly filled to the brim with joy. “It’s FRIDAY?” Snatcher snickered at his daughter’s response.

“Yep, kiddo, it’s your favorite day of the week.”

“Can we stay up and watch movies?!”

“Sure thing, short-stack, just as long as you don’t fall asleep while we watch. Be a shame if you got to watch your favorite movie, but fell asleep right in the middle.” Snatcher smiled warmly as he teased Harriet, setting his focus back on the road as they pulled into their home. It was on the nicer side, though hidden in the trees as to not gain attention to itself. The glow of the windows at night gave it an almost eerie feel, though it was welcoming for the two of them. After he finished backing the car up and parking it, he wasted no time gathering the belongings in the car, double checking he had everything. His phone, Harriet’s baggage, his wallet, keys, her mask, what else was there…? Ah! There it was.

“Did you have a nice night with Ms. Primrose?” Harriet asked innocently, searching her bag for a familiar owl doll she’d forgotten she’d left inside.

Snatcher turned and smiled. “Yes, I did. And before you ask, no, I didn’t forget to bring something home.” Finally remembering what else he had, he pulled out a nice chocolate pie that he’d stowed in the front seat, out of view to keep it a surprise. “Like I’d forget to treat my little kid for putting up with her busy old man.”

Harriet squealed in delight, eagerly grabbing for the pie. Chuckling lowly, as to not wake the neighbors with his obnoxious laughter, Snatcher handed her the dessert. “Go put it on the counter, Hattie. I’ll get you a slice once I get changed and settle everything down.”

Harriet skittered inside, placing the pie on the counter of the kitchen as she was told before bounding over to the couch and waiting for her father to return back down from his room. She held her doll in hand, practically bouncing in place out of anticipation. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Snatcher slumped down the steps- having replaced his formal suit and khakis in favor of a turtleneck and sweatpants- clearly worn from his job, but managed to crack a smile for his daughter. He quietly walked over to the counter, skillfully cutting the pie into equal parts, putting Harriet’s slice on her place, putting two on his own, and placing a fork on each one. He then walked over to the living room with her, placing his plate in his lap and wrapping an arm around Harriet as he turned the TV on. “What movie do you want to watch, kiddo?”

Snatcher wasn’t surprised when she asked to watch Train Rush, one of her favorite movies. It was about a young girl who had to rescue a whole train from being blown to smithereens. He was half convinced Harriet liked it because the youthful protagonist looked an awful lot like herself, and that she kept imagining herself as a great heroine in her imagination. Snatcher couldn’t argue with her choice- the Conductor was a rather great director, being able to tell stories well and keeping people engaged with action. The only issue was that the Conductor had a habit of ONLY making train or western related movies. It was a little unnerving, but Snatcher didn’t really mind it.

Harriet quickly tore through her dessert, putting her full attention on the TV, leaning into her father’s arms and watching in awe, as though it was her first time watching rather than her one thousandth- or so it felt. Snatcher took his time with his food, knowing he had to at least try to space out his eating. His wretched curse made it so hard to feel full, even for a time, but he could at least try to feel some semblance of satiation. 

At some point in the movie, Snatcher had lost himself in his thoughts about food, having finished his pie but not wanting to get up and spoil the moment with his daughter. Thoughts about Harriet spiraled into memories of the past, which held his attention so tightly he-

“It’s over, dad! Did you like it?”

Snatcher snapped back into reality, looked down at the child in his arm. She didn’t seem tired in the slightest, hugging on the poor owl toy like he held onto her. He smiled and ruffled her hair softly. “Kid, you’ve asked that question every single time I watch this thing with you, and my answer never changes. Yes, kiddo, I like it.” Harriet beamed and buried her face in his chest, sighing when he rubbed the back of her head. “Tired yet, kiddo?”

“Nuh-uh!” Harriet squeaked back at him, moving her face into his long and smooth hair. “I wanna stay up with you! You always get to stay up!”

“Well, kiddo, you see how much of a wreck I look like.” He gestured to the bags under his eyes. “If you wanna stay so pretty when you’re older, you should sleep.”

“But it’s my one time to stay up late with you!”

“Fiiiiiiiiiiiine.” Snatcher droned dramatically, trying to act all defeated just to entertain Harriet. He patted her head and sat up, heading back into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

“I bet you ate the whole restaurant’s menu with Ms. Primrose.” Harriet teased.

“Actually, I only ate three steaks tonight.” Snatcher grinned widely, an ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ tone ringing in his voice. “But really, I do try to not eat that much in public. It would be a bit strange to constantly eat.”

He found where he’d stowed a nice set of rolls away, plucking a few handfuls and dropping them on a moist paper towel before setting them in the microwave to cook.

“Are you punishing the food?” Harriet tilted her head. He had no idea where she’d picked up that concept, but he found himself humored when she asked, so he egged her on.

“Yep. These rolls have been VERY bad.” He smiled when he heard her giggle. Her little laugh always made his heart, which had long gone cold, feel the slightest bit of warmth.

It wasn’t too long after Snatcher had made quick work of the bread that Harriet started to conk out, leaning on his shoulder and mumbling about staying up. Normally, he’d take her to her room, get her changed into pajamas, and read her a story before bed to make sure she’d be out until morning. But tonight, she was EXTRA tired. So instead, he silently picked up and took her to her room, laying her in her bed and wrapping her up in a blanket.

“We’ll get you a bath tomorrow. G’Night, Harriet.” Snatcher grinned at seeing his daughter’s sleepy smile, before he turned and walked back out, closing the door behind him. He walked downstairs and into his home office, sitting at his desk. On it, a long and wordy contract he was writing for a contractor he was picking up. Just another Mafia who wanted to sue another for identity theft. It happened a lot, considering all the Mafia looked and acted the exact same, save for the boss and the goofy one.

He spent long into the night, scribbling away at the contract, exhausted when he finally set his pen down and leaned back, his spine aching. He tried to stare at the light over his desk to wake himself up, but it only made him more tired. Sighing in defeat, he turned the lamp off and made his way out of his office, feeling miserable. His job felt pointless. He was never in court. He never settled things like a regular lawyer should. He didn’t settle marital disputes- not often, anyways. He didn’t deal with lawsuits and appeals.He felt corrupt and unjust. He wrote contracts that dealt with shady deals. Giving him large sums of cash in exchange for ‘solving’ an ordeal, usually something that had nothing to do with the law at all.

It wasn’t just his job that made him feel miserable. He never had time for himself, much less his own friends, like Primrose and Cookie. He felt he had to squeeze time in for them both, not to even mention the orphans that had made him their role model- a horrid choice- and oh, peck, Harriet! He had to find time EVERY DAY for her. Even if it was just a quick book or meal, he had to find time for his own daughter. Ever since Vanessa-

Snatcher shook his head, snuffing out a candle he’d lit in the hallway. No use pondering the past. She wasn’t his problem anymore, at least, for now. But after snuffing the candle, he found his own thoughts drowned out by exhaustion. He laid down on the couch, not having the energy to make it to his room. He curled up on the couch, mind unraveling as he fell into the embrace of dreamless sleep.


	2. A Brief Walk

Harriet sat up in her bed, rubbing at her eye softly. Her owl doll was halfway across the bed, thrown from her arms while she slept, no doubt. As she reached for her doll, she was greeted by the extremely unpleasant, and yet all too familiar noise of her father hacking up yesterday’s dinner over a trash bin. Shuddering, Harriet grabbed the toy and kicked herself off the bed and over to Snatcher’s room, where inside the bathroom, there he was, crouched over a tall trash can, throwing up.

“Mmmhhh… daddy…?” Harriet chirped quietly, making sure to give her father distance, thought she looked very worried for him.

Snatcher peered up from the bin, his face having run pale and the bags under his eyes seemed even more pronounced. “O… oh… kid- _ urhmg _ \- kiddo…” He tried to plaster a weak smile on his face, but blistering nausea gagged him once again. He was certain he didn’t have anything left in him, but the gagging always went on for some time. “S… sorry… I woke you-  _ mrhp! _ \- again, didn’t I?”

He forced a gentle look on his face, even though his body was practically screaming at him. He never really got sick, not since he was with… Harriet’s mother. But because of the curse’s effects on his appetite, it was hard for him to tell when his body was actually full or not, and he’d end up overeating to the point of making himself sick. Harriet had come to learn this on her own, common sense telling her that this problem stemmed from his poor eating habits.

Harriet’s expression dropped a little, and Snatcher felt his heart twinge painfully. “K-kiddo, don’t… don’t worry. You know I’m fine.” He gave himself just a bit more time to recoup himself, before tying up the bag inside the bin and pulling it out to take it to the trash bin outside. When he came back, Harriet hadn’t moved an inch- but the sounds of quiet sniffling and gasps were undeniable.

“Harriet-” Snatcher started to go for a hug, but remembered he was still dirty from getting sick over the bin- so, almost reluctantly, he closed the door to the bathroom, washed his hands and face off, before getting changed into his usual home attire- a sweater and some casual pants. ‘ _ What a great start to the weekend’ _ , Snatcher hissed to himself. When he was finally done making sure he was cleaned up, he opened the door to see Harriet practically bawling in complete silence.

“Harriet- Hattie, dear-” Snatcher fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Harriet, feeling worry and guilt creep in his chest. He lifted her chin up to look at her face, then tried to wipe at the stream of tears to no avail. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

“Y-You’re al-  _ *hic _ * always sick- a-a-and miserable an-  _ *hic*  _ busy and I can’t do an-  _ *hic* _ anything to help-” Harriet whimpered throughout her breathless confession, clinging to her father’s clothes as tightly as she held on the owl. She didn’t get to speak much more, as Snatcher placed his finger gently over her lips to shush her, patting her on the back with his other hand.

“Oh, short-stack…” Snatcher tried his best to smile for his daughter. “It’s not your fault I’m sick and busy… and I’m not miserable…” He sat down on his knees, guiding Harriet to sit on his leg. “You know I have to work to get the money we need for the house and food. I know it’s hard not seeing me that much during the week, and I hate not being able to see you much too… and I get sick like this because I have trouble eating right. It’s not your fault, no, Hattie… not at all.”

Harriet wiped at the tears on her face, looking up at Snatcher with glossy eyes. “And,” He continued, grabbing one of her hands to fit into his, “I’m not miserable. Sure, my job can be a bit… erm… boring, but you have no idea how much it gets better when I know I can come home and see my favorite little brat.” Snatcher pinched her cheek, causing Harriet to squeak and giggle a little. He pulled her closely, nuzzling the hair on her head while she latched her arms around his neck in an embrace. He knew he wasn’t being a hundred percent serious when he said he wasn’t miserable… but he couldn’t just tell Harriet that and watch her cry more.

Snatcher picked up his daughter in his arms, carrying her over to the dining room, and placing her in her chair. “Sit and wait here, kiddo, I’ll make you some eggs.”

Snatcher poked at his plate of eggs, which had long gone cold, while watching Harriet play a game on the console he’d bought for her birthday. Though his body was already dying for more to eat, his appetite was long gone from feeling sick all morning. He gave a defeated sigh and got up, dumping his eggs into the trash bin and setting his plate in the sink, knowing his gut would bite him in the butt for it later. He then walked over to his chair, which Harriet had stolen in his absence, before picking her up and claiming it for himself, setting her in his lap with his arm wrapped around her. “Whatchya’ playing, kiddo?”

Harriet didn’t respond, too enticed by her video game to notice her dad’s questions. He didn’t care, though, he already knew what she was playing. He leaned himself back against the chair, kicking his feet out on the ottoman, and pulling out a book from beside the stool, trying to read to ignore the hunger he felt.

At some point, he ended up drifting to sleep, as he woke up to find Harriet poking his cheek. She’d paused her game, and was laying draped across his torso, smiling at him. “You snore loudly.”

Snatcher rolled his eyes and smirked. “Uh-huh, sure kid. Let’s not talk about how to kick in your sleep.”

“I do not!”

“Tell that to the poor owl doll that ends up across the bed every night, and why you don’t get to sleep in my bed anymore.” Snatcher poked her nose, only to receive a poke on his in return. He huffed a little as he sat up, stuffing a bookmark into his book and setting it back down. “Hmmm… kid…”

Harriet looked up at her father, curious. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t tell you, did I? Ms. Primrose is coming over-”

“YAAAY!” Harriet cheered, cupping Snatcher’s face excitedly. “Ms. Primrose is coming? Can she play video games with me?”

Snatcher snickered at Harriet’s enthusiasm. “Well, we’re gonna go for a walk first- but she’s gonna stay until you go to bed, sooo… you can ask her when the walk is over.” Harriet squeaked, before hearing a car door close from outside. Snatcher’s strange ears perked at the noise. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Harriet leapt off of her dad, running to the door in anticipation. She practically squealed when she heard a knock on the door, ignoring her father telling her to wait and opening the door herself.

“Hello Ms. Primrose!” Harriet smiled up at her, only to get an equally wide smile in return as Primrose ruffled Harriet’s hair, eliciting a giggle from the child.

“Hey there, Hattie!” Primrose smirked, then looked up to Snatcher, who was walking to the door. “Well, you look like you just rolled out of bed.”

Snatcher stifled a chuckle. He grabbed a hair tie from the nearby coffee table and pulled his hair back in a ponytail, then stuck out a hand for a handshake. “I feel like I did, if I’m being honest.”

Primrose stared at his outstretched hand briefly. “Oh, come here, Luke.” She smiled as she wrapped her arm around Snatcher in a sort of half-hug, but her smile wavered when she saw Snatcher’s rather peeved expression, hidden under a smile.

“You know I don’t want you to call me that.” He whispered, so only Primrose could hear it. 

Primrose rolled her eyes and smiled again. “Whatever, grouchy. Well, I’m here, now what?”

“A walk!” Harriet exclaimed, interrupting her father before he could speak.

Primrose giggled at Harriet’s enthusiasm, looking back up at Snatcher. He was trying to hold a straight face, but Primrose could see the corners of his mouth perking up into the ever most slight grin.

Harriet held onto her father’s hand tightly, gazing around the park as she walked next to him and Primrose. She usually enjoyed taking in the atmosphere, imagining scenarios in her mind while she took in the fresh air and vivid colors. She wasn’t paying any attention to Snatcher and Primrose talking and laughing. 

Snatcher was always rather uptight towards anyone who wasn’t Harriet or one of the orphans at Cookie’s orphanage. It’d been that way since Harriet’s mother had snapped and cursed him. He used to act and feel completely different. He was nice. He was warm. He was bubbly. He was shy, but did his best to be outgoing. Now, he was cold and distant, with a glare that could make a rabid dog sit still.

Primrose had known him since they were children, longer than he’d known his ex. She’d known him before he’d even considered being a law student. She’d known his smile since they were kids. 

Luke would make it a point to talk with her often, and often claimed to her face that she was probably his best friend. It didn’t surprise her when he talked less and less to her when he started law school- he was probably drowning in books to study and papers to write. Nerd. Not to mention whenever he got a chance to come home, he was glued to Vanessa’s side. Simp. It wasn’t hard to understand, seeing as they were engaged. Nor was it hard to wonder why he hadn’t spoken to her at all since they were married, and she caught word that he was to be a father.

What was weird was when he went missing for three weeks.

No school attendance. No texts or emails or even written letters. No response to calls, and Vanessa spoke nothing of him. Nothing at all.

At first, Primrose didn’t think much of it. He’d stopped by her store not too long ago, asking for flowers he could buy as a gift for his wife. She managed to strike a brief conversation, just to catch up on one another. It felt nice to talk to him after so long. But after a week of no one seeing him at all, not once, she started feeling a bit worried.

After two weeks, people started to look for him, not seeing him anywhere and there being no trace of him since he’d gone back to the manor with the flowers.

After three weeks, they’d all given up. Primrose was filled with dread of what could have happened to Luke, where he could have gone, how long he’d be missing-

Primrose noticed a face walking down the sidewalk as she set flowers outside her shop.. A man with a purple face, even darker purple hair that reached down his back, pointed ears, and an infant over his shoulder, walking down the road. Beyond the baggy eyes and fanged teeth, she knew the face. She could see the smile, ever so faintly. She could never forget it.

“Hey? Primrose?” Snatcher poked her shoulder, which caused Primrose to jolt from her thoughtful trance. She looked back at him, then at Harriet, who was still lost in her own thoughts. Snatcher looked just a little concerned, seeing as how Primrose apparently hadn’t been listening for however long he’d been talking. “Are you feeling alright?”

Primrose nodded. “I’m fine, just spaced out for a minute.”

Snatcher smiled a little, ignoring the twitch in his stomach as he picked Harriet up off the ground. She finally snapped from her own trance, squealing when he hoisted her up and over his shoulders, readjusting his hair to be thrown over his shoulder.

“Excuse me, tall and thin purple man.” Snatcher froze, holding onto Harriet a little tighter as he recognized the voice. Primrose stopped a few steps later, turning around with Snatcher to see a bald, bulky man in chef’s attire. One of the Mafia members. He looked the same as any other, no features to discern him from the others at all.

“Oh?” Snatcher hissed, light traces of venom in his voice. He hated dealing with the Mafia during his work hours, what could they possibly want with him on his day off? “And what do you want?”

“Mafia asked thin purple man to take care of contract, and purple man has not yet fulfilled his end of deal. Mafia come to settle issue.” The bulky man pointed a finger at Snatcher, walking up to him. Primrose always felt a little intimidated by the Mafia, seeing as how they usually towered over her. But Snatcher stood well over the Mafia, at least a solid foot higher.

Snatcher sighed and lifted Harriet back over his head, placing her on the ground. Harriet retreated behind him, clutching onto his leg and staring up at the Mafia.

“Look, if you’re the Mafia I think you are, I made that deal on  _ Friday _ . This is my time off, not work time. I’ll settle your problems when I get back to my office on Monday.” Snatcher rolled his eyes and turned, grabbing Harriet’s hand and tugging it softly, placing his other hand on Primrose’s shoulder and trying to guide them both away. He didn’t have time to deal with the Mafia. He hardly cared about their issues, and didn’t value them in the slightest. Not that any of them were very important. “Hattie, Prim, let’s go now.”

“Not so fast.” Snatcher hissed when he felt the Mafia grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to face the Mafia, letting both Primrose and Harriet go. Harriet hid behind Primrose, whimpering ever so slightly. She’d never been so close to one of the Mafia before, only really seeing them on the TV, or in photos for her father’s contracts. “Thin purple man said he will get contract done soon as possible. Walking with small child and woman is not ‘soon as possible’, is delay!”

Snatcher groaned and pinched the bridge between his eyes, his forked tongue flicking out briefly before masking his frustration with an incredibly fake smile, which went right over the Mafia’s head. He was about to get snarky, but he didn’t want to escalate the issue in front of Hattie… so instead, he caved. “How about this. You and I step aside for a moment and discuss out little issue, and leave my friend and my kid be for the time. We resolve this, and you leave me alone.”

The Mafia nodded, letting go of Snatcher’s arm and walking into a forest path, stopping halfway to wait for the shady lawyer. Snatcher turned to Harriet, holding her shoulder. “Daddy’s gotta go talk with the Mafia man about work, m’kay Hattie? I’ll be back in a minute.” He then stood up, facing Primrose. “Prim, please watch Harriet for me? I’ll try to make this quick.”

When Primrose nodded and started walking Harriet back into town, distracting her with the promise of ice cream, Snatcher followed the Mafia into the path, feeling his frustration pulse in his veins.

Snatcher tapped his foot impatiently, listening to the Mafia spew the same crap at him once again, repeating the same point for the fifth time while ignoring Snatcher’s retort. “Purple man promised soon as possible. Now is soon as possible. Mafia want purple man to deal with problem now.”

Snatcher gripped his forehead tightly, huffing in annoyance. “For the last time, when I said ‘as soon as possible’, I MEANT when I get back to my office on Monday, not during my days off!” Snatcher hissed, yellow eyes glaring into the Mafia’s blank stare.

“Purple man did not make date clear when deal was signed!”

“I very clearly stated ‘as soon as possible’ meant my next work day!”

“Mafia not aware purple man did not work today!”

Snatcher cursed under his breath. “Listen to me,  _ very clearly, you idiotic clone _ . I will deal with your issue on  _ MONDAY. _ I do not want to _ HEAR or SEE _ you until THEN. Do I make myself  _ CLEAR _ ?”

“Mafia do not like your tone, and Mafia do not like to be threatened!” The man suddenly looked rather angry, or more so than before. Snatcher nearly yelped when the Mafia grabbed his arm and yanked him to the ground, soiling his sweater.

“THAT IS IT.” Snatcher snapped out of anger, his hands releasing a bit of smoke as he felt fire in his veins. “I’M CALLING OFF THE CONTRACT. GO FIND ANOTHER LAWYER.”

The Mafia huffed, now cocky that he knocked Snatcher over. “Purple man will not call off deal.”

“Oh, yeah?” Snatcher remarked through clenched fangs, not bothering to hold back the poison in his tone. “What are you gonna do about it? Try and sue?”

The Mafia cracked his knuckles. “Mafia of Cooks are above law when law not in Mafia of Cooks’ favor.”

“Oh, so what about the Mafia you’re suing? Why bother with a lawyer at all? What even was it about? Property dispute? You all look and act the same, why the hell does anyone even care?” Snatcher started to pick himself up, brushing the dirt off of himself. “Kick me, punch me, throw me around- see if I care. It just makes me even more convinced to not help you.” Snatcher reached into his hair, which acted like some sort of strange pocket dimension, and pulled out a contract he’d neatly wrapped up. He unfurled it and grabbed the top of the paper, about to rip in two-

“If skinny purple man rips contract, Mafia will hurt purple man very badly!”

Snatcher took no heed to the Mafia’s threats (though his stomach seemed to, growling at him more than usual), pulling the thin paper apart, taking great joy in listening to the sheet rip to pieces.

“Mafia will kill purple man!”

Snatcher’s grin only grew with his rage as he pulled a bit harder, watching the paper split over the word “CONTRACT”.

“MAFIA WILL HURT PURPLE MAN’S CHILD IF PURPLE MAN RIPS CONTRACT MORE.”

Those words caused Snatcher to freeze, eyes widening and his smile dropping fast. The Mafia smiled, seeing that he found a weak spot in the lawyer’s defenses. What he couldn’t see was Snatcher’s hands, shaking and smoking furiously as he dropped the contract on the ground, his breathing quickening, his hair puffing up as he hissed lowly, his eyes locked dead on the Mafia, who wasn’t paying any attention.

The next thing Snatcher knew, he was on his knees in front of the Mafia, who was now lying motionless on the ground. Snatcher’s memory trailed behind him as he recollected himself. He remembered lashing out at the Mafia, grabbing him firmly by the neck, blinded in mad fury over his daughter-  _ HIS _ HARRIET- being threatened by such a low life. He remembered the Mafia begging for mercy, trying to apologize feebly, in vain, while Snatcher blankly ignored him. He remembered… a blue light…

Snatcher looked at his palms, and saw a faint wisp, like a flame, resting between his hands. He felt his stomach lurch, suddenly and painfully aware of his hunger. He had no clue what this- this THING- was, this strange, smoke-like figure in his grasp, making a soft and constant whine. He felt his heart freeze when the blue wisp looked UP at him.

It had some semblance to a face, with what looked like two eyes and a mouth, curved in such a way that it appeared to be weeping. Snatcher glanced up at the Mafia, who still hadn’t moved, but found his gaze dragged back on the wisp that rested in his claws. The flame-like creature flickered in his hands, his attention glued to the wisp’s every movement. He held the strange creature closer to his face, inspecting it further, feeling… awfully hungry…

He tried to pull himself away, his better judgement telling him THIS WASN’T NATURAL, THIS THING IN HIS HANDS SHOULDN’T BE THERE. But every instinct he had was telling him to sit, and watch, to hold it closer. The strange thing was warm, in a cold way, if that even made sense. It sent chills down his bones and skin, but those chills left trails of warmth and comfort. Snatcher flicked his serpentine tongue out, tasting the air. It was… sweet. How could air be sweet…?

Snatcher brought the wisp up to his face, feeling his mouth pool with spit. “No. No… I… mmm...” He growled softly, leaning away from the smokey being, only for it’s movements to once again attract his focus. He stared at it, eyes wide, like a moth drawn towards a flame. It was like it was calling him. He felt his gut tremble, be it out of hunger or his better self, telling him to get out, he didn’t quite know. He flicked his tongue out again, throwing any and all reason out the window as he caved into instinct, his mind going fuzzy and warped.

He brought the wisp mere inches to his face, his mouth opening wide as the wisp suddenly started to whimper louder and louder, like panicked breathing. Then, it shrieked so loud, birds flew off the trees and into different directions-

The sound of the wisp’s screams was snuffed out quickly once he closed his jaws around the flame, shoving the whole thing into his mouth, crushing its amorphous form in his mouth, feeling it slide down like jelly. He stared blankly at his hands, shivering wildly, forgetting everything as his mind was completely blank. He stared, hunched over himself, in front of the body of the Mafia man, totally blank. Something in his stomach rolled heavily, and he felt a jolt of energy through his bones, waking him up. He found himself coming back into reality, dazed and unaware of himself, trying to recollect his thoughts. The first thing we became aware of was the blue, glue-like liquid dripping from his hands. After that, he realized something. He felt something in him move again. He felt warm. He felt calm. He felt awake.

For the first time since Vanessa locked him in the garage and left him to rot, he felt FULL.

Snatcher moved his hands to wrap around his stomach, somehow feeling utmost bliss and absolute terror at once. He felt full- no hunger, no appetite, no cravings. Satiated. But he wasn’t supposed to.

It went against all he knew about his curse. He wasn’t supposed to be full. Not once, in the last six years, had he felt full. And yet, here he was, having eaten something the size of an apple, and not craving something else.

The image of whatever creature he just stuffed into his gullet flashed in his mind. Snatcher shuddered, looking up at the man in blue. He hadn’t moved at all. No twitches, no grumbling or whispers, no movement. Not even a small breathing movement. Fear trailed down Snatcher’s spine. That… that wisp… it couldn’t… that wasn’t-

The sound of something dropping to the ground behind him snapped Snatcher out of his panicked thoughts. He dreaded in doing so, but he slowly turned around, looking at what fell first. A small paper plate, with what looked to be some sort of custard or pie on it, now soiled on the ground in front of two little boots. Snatcher’s body began to lock up as his eyes trailed upwards, his golden eyes meeting his own daughter’s blue, horror-filled eyes.

Primrose had taken Harriet down the street to grab ice cream and pie, to draw her attention away from whatever work-related business Snatcher had to take care of. But when they both unmistakably heard the sound of shrill shrieks, Harriet had run right towards the source of the sound so fast that Primrose couldn’t keep up. It took her a moment to actually find the fork in the path that Snatcher had walked down, and, assuming Harriet remembered it, Primrose hurried along. “Harriet? Hattie, where did you go?”

Primrose sighed in relief, seeing Harriet standing at the end of the path. “Oh, Hattie, there you ar-” Primrose saw the food she’d just bought for Harriet spilt along the ground, about to comment on it, before she looked up to see what Harriet was looking at. She nearly screamed at what she saw.

Snatcher, blue substance rolling down his chin and palms, bent over the Mafia man from before- who wasn’t moving at all. Primrose grabbed Harriet’s shoulder tightly. “Hattie, get over here. Now.”

Snatcher lifted a hand out to the two. “W-wait- Prim-” He choked back, feeling something in him move again. He forced himself to his feet, before stumbling back down to one knee. Looking back up, he saw Primrose tugging Harriet away, pulling her away from him, Harriet’s face contorted in desperate fear. “Ha- Harriet-”

Primrose took another step away, and Snatcher yelled, a flame bursting around his hand, engulfing the whole thing. He yelped and quickly slammed it into the dirt, snuffing the flame before looking back at the two of them, all three looking confused and horrified.

Snatcher tried to get up again, only to stumble on his feet, feeling top-heavy. He landed on his cheek, grunting as he tried to pick himself up to look at Primrose and Harriet. His clothes were a mess, his hair was puffed out and knotted, and he looked just dreadful. He stuck his other hand out at them, his breathing heavy and ragged. “H-Harriet, Hattie please-”

When he offered his hand to her, Harriet didn’t grab a hold, or even speak. Instead, she recoiled in Primrose’s arm, who took another step back. Snatcher looked at his hand in disbelief, then recognized the blue substance rolling off his palm. He jerked it away from himself out of shock, his hand trembling weakly as he stared. Whatever the wisp was made out of, it was dripping down his arm and off his chin, proof he’d eaten something. He had a very faint idea of what it was, remembering something he’d read long ago about blue wisps and monsters that could pull them out of people’s bodies, relying on them for substance instead of real food. He started to mutter incoherently, terror plastered across his face. He felt his heart race in his chest, his stomach flip in place, his brain racing painfully.

Soul. It was a soul. The Mafia’s soul.

And he’d eaten it like a grape.

He threw himself back, staring at his hand with awestruck fear. “P-Prim.” He choked out, words getting caught in his throat as he spoke. “Prim. G-get H- Get Harriet out. Away fr- away from me.”

The Mafia man suddenly burst into pons, causing Snatcher to nearly shriek, his already racing heart skipping a beat.

Primrose looked down at Harriet, then back up at Snatcher, looking at his horrified and confused expression towards his own hand- which was now emitting smoke- then back down at little Harriet again, seeing her stare back up, worry and fear in her own eyes. But when Primrose watched the little girl turn her attention to the mess that was Snatcher, she saw Harriet look concerned. As though she wanted to run into her father’s arms to know everything was okay, but having seen him next to what Primrose could only assume to be a corpse…

“Prim.” Snatcher spoke again, his voice trembling softly. “Get Harriet out of here. NOW.”

Primrose looked back up at her long-time friend. At first, she’d assumed the worst… but seeing how Snatcher himself didn’t seem to fully grasp the situation at hand, she shook her head, staring the lawyer dead in the eye. “No, Luke. I won’t.”

Snatcher seemed a bit taken aback by Primrose’s defiance, before pleading again. “Prim. Get out of here. N-now, please.”

Primrose dug her heel in, both metaphorically and literally. “No. Luke, I’m not going to leave you here.”

She could have never expected Snatcher to blow up like he did, screaming something incoherent, so loud he blew his voice out, hands going ablaze briefly before he snuffed them out again. Clutching his throat in one palm, his whimpered, “pl… ple… ease… P… rim....”

Primrose didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t know what had happened before she’d walked into the grotto, she didn’t know why Snatcher was suddenly so unsettled and covered in blue goop, she didn’t know why the Mafia was dead, why Snatcher’s hands were catching ablaze without him meaning to, and she didn’t know how to react. So she took a deep breath, gave herself the smallest moment to herself, then let herself decide what to do next.

Harriet clinging to her leg, Primrose walked over to Snatcher, who had rested his forehead to the ground in defeat. She slowly sat down on her knees, then on her side. She hesitated, then brought a hand behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck gently. He tried to jerk back, but her hand held him in place. “Take a deep breath, Luke.”

Snatcher opened his mouth in protest, but felt another hand on his head, this time smaller and even more of a gentle touch. He moved his head up slowly, eyes locking right on Harriet’s. She’d managed to weave her hand into his puffed up hair, rubbing the back of his head. “Hattie.” He whispered, voice cracking softly. “H-Hattie. Go.”

Instead, Harriet sat on Primrose’s leg, her eyes not leaving his. “No, dad, breathe.”

“Hattie, short-stack, please-”

“Daddy. Breathe.”

Snatcher looked down, then back up, before feeling a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Breathe, Luke.” Primrose encouraged, moving her hand from his hair to his hand, lifting it off the ground and in Harriet’s lap. She wiped the strange substance off with the sleeve of her jacket. “Just breathe.”

Finally, Snatcher listened, forcing himself to breathe rhythmically. “Deep breaths, Luke.” Primrose continued, rubbing the back of his hand with her own, in gentle nonsense patterns.

After a few minutes of nothing but breathing, Primrose nudged Harriet off her lap so she could get a bit closer to Snatcher. Harriet sat down in front of him, trying to fix his now awry hair. Primrose urged him to sit up, grabbing his other hand to clean it off as well. Then, she took her jacket off, and tried to wipe off his face. “It’s okay, Luke. It’s okay.”

Snatcher growled under his breath, about to make a comment on how everything was NOT okay, but a quick glare from Primrose shut him up fast. Harriet tried to crawl into her father’s arms, but he recoiled quickly, fear starting to creep up on him again.

Primrose nearly grabbed him by the shoulder, but quick thinking told her to instead place a hand on his back. “Luke… what happened…? Why did that guy just turn into pons…?”

Snatcher felt his spine tremble, and he tried to keep his face neutral, but nothing he did could keep the fear off his face. “I… I-I don’t- I don’t know.” He sat up a bit further, leaning against Primrose’s hand. When Harriet once again tried to get in his arms, he finally let her, wrapping his arms around her so tightly, it looked like it hurt. Harriet didn’t seem to mind. “I… I-I don’t… I don’t know what happened.”

Primrose tried to rub his back a little, which got her something which sounded like a purr and a growl, mixed together. “You don’t know?”

“I…” Snatcher placed a hand on his forehead. “We walked back here, to talk about his contract deal from Friday… He wouldn’t listen to a word I said, when I told him I’d take care of it on Monday. But… uhm… He kept insisting on me doing it now.”  
Harriet placed a hand on his cheek. Primrose nodded.

“I got fed up with him, and I grabbed his contract.” Snatcher gestured to the now soiled paper on the ground, where the Mafia once was. “He panicked when I started to rip it, and he… and he… mmm…” Snatcher glanced down at Harriet, who tilted her head. “He… uh… ahem- convince me otherwise.” He hoped Primrose understood what he meant. He really didn’t want to have to go into detail about it with Harriet around.

“I ignored him at first… but he… urm... “ He gestured to Harriet with his eyes. “And… I… I don’t… I felt so… infuriated… I… I don’t remember…” Snatcher gripped his forehead tightly, racking his brain. “I… I remember attacking him… I remember… this blue thing, in my hands. I… I felt so fuzzy… And… then I was sitting here, and saw Harriet…”

Snatcher wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t remember. For whatever reason, he felt as though his head was full of fog. He pressed Harriet up against him tightly, pressing his nose against her forehead. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Hattie…” Snatcher looked at Harriet sadly, feeling her hand press up against his cheek.

“But, dad…” Harriet looked up at him, placing her other hand on the other side of his face. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Upon hearing those words, all the feelings Snatcher had desperately tried to hold back bubbled over. He buried his head against Harriet’s shoulder, leaned back into Primrose, and started sobbing.

  
  
  


Harriet put her joycon down, having been playing video games since they’d gotten back home in the afternoon. Primrose had bought herself and Harriet another custard, while her father had slunk back into his room for a nap. Though Harriet begged Primrose to let her talk to him, she’d said that he needed time on his own for a bit, and that she could talk when he came back down. The moment she heard his door open, for the first time since he’d locked himself away hours before, Harriet was ready.

Snatcher walked down the stairs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He found he couldn’t nap well, as if he was too energized to sit still. And when he’d lit a small candle to read his book instead, he nearly lit the room on fire, the flame in his palm was so huge. It was definitely strange, given how his flames were never bigger than a quarter. And he’d never felt so… energetic. Awake. He could normally sit down and be out within a minute. But now… he couldn’t lay down without fidgeting or twitching.

Primrose was sitting in Snatcher’s chair, thinking about what she’d seen in the grotto. How fearful Snatcher was over them being so close to him. The Mafia, who burst into pons. The blue substance that was dripping off of him. Primrose felt horrible, thinking about the worst scenarios. Did Snatcher murder the man, and play innocent? But, why would he act so confused and traumatized?

It didn’t make sense to her. Anything she thought of as an explanation didn’t make sense. If it was Snatcher’s fault, why would he act so fearful and not recall a thing? If he was innocent, what was all over his mouth and hands, and why did he act so guilty? Primrose had so many questions for him, but she didn’t want to pressure him. He seemed worried enough.

Snatcher barely got off the steps before nearly getting tackled by Harriet, who clung around his waist. “K-kiddo, careful, you’re gonna make me fall!” Snatcher snapped, his usual calm and neutral expression replaced with mild agitation. Harriet noticed this, and let go, backing away sadly. Snatcher wanted to apologize for snapping, but Harriet had already turned her back on him, walking back to the chair she had been sitting in and picking her joycon back up to continue playing. He walked past her, holding his hand out to brush the hair out of her eyes, his heart throbbing painfully when she moved her head out of the way, mistaking the gesture as ‘leave me alone’.

Primrose looked up at Snatcher, standing up and stopping him as he walked. “Luke, do you mind if we talk? In private?”

Snatcher huffed under his breath, and continued to walk into his home office. “Not if you keep calling me that.”

She rolled her eyes, following him. “Fine, ‘Snatcher’.”

Primrose took a seat in front of Snatcher’s desk, while he sat down on the other side, pulling his chair up to face her. “What did you want to talk about, Prim?” He hissed with no real aggression.

“I just wanted to ask about earlier.” Primrose watched Snatcher’s blank expression falter briefly, before he forced himself to recollect. “Did you… remember anything else.?”

Snatcher looked at his hands, fumbling for a moment. “I… I do.”

Primrose leaned up further to listen.

“I… I was angry. Furious. That… that wretched Mafia, he… he threatened to hurt me, kill me. I didn’t pay him any attention, I was going to rip the contract and leave. But then he… he threatened to hurt Hattie. I don’t know why I got so angry, but I… I lashed out, and attacked him.”

Primrose nodded. She figured he did know why he got angry. He was protective of Harriet, and that was just plain obvious. The way he’d hold her close in public, or snap at kids he caught making fun of her for her strange games. She was all he had left, family-wise. He was going to let anyone threaten her, much less actually hurt her.

“I… I remember pulling some sort of blue thing, out of his body. It sort of looked like a ball of smoke, or a flame. Like a will-’o-the-wisp. It moved in my hands, and it made this weird squeaky noise. And… it's still a bit foggy, but I remember feeling drawn to it. Like, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it, or even stop thinking about it. I… I started feeling so hungry, and I…”

Snatcher trailed off, but Primrose could put two and two together. The blue thing he talked about, the blue substance on his hands and chin- there was no doubt that he must have eaten it. It would have been humorous to her, seeing as how he practically ate anything that was considered ‘food’, no matter how awful it tasted, but he didn’t describe it like food. He described it like a living being. Primrose knew even Snatcher wouldn’t go as far as eating something alive, right?

“It felt… weird. When I… urm…” Snatcher paused. “I felt… awake. I felt warm. I felt… stronger. The wisp couldn’t have been bigger than my fist, but… I felt full.” Snatcher put his hand over his gut, realizing he hadn’t eaten anything but the wisp all day. “I still feel full.”

Primrose sat and thought about what he said. “You said you pulled it out of his body?”

Snatcher nodded.

“And… he burst into pons after you ate it?”

Snatcher glanced away, nodding again.

“Have you ever done something like that before?”

“No, never.” Snatcher looked back, worry smeared across his face like paint.

“Maybe…” Primrose looked him in the face. “Do you think that was his soul?”

Snatcher shuddered. “Prim, please tell me you’re joking.”

Primrose reached across the table and grabbed his hand, looking at the difference in size between them. How his had to be at least twice as large as hers. He slowly encased his hand around hers.

“You’re not joking, are you.”

Primrose sighed and buried her face in her other arm. “Maybe it's a power you didn’t know you had.”

Snatcher scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I think I know myself enough to say I don’t have any more cursed abilities.” He took his hand back, then looked at them both, side by side. “Right?”

Primrose didn’t know what to say, so she kept quiet. The room fell silent for a moment, before Snatcher spoke up again.

“I didn’t mean to kill him.”

She looked at him, bending over the table to grab his shoulder- but when he recoiled from her hand, she whispered an apology to him and put her hand on the table for him to take. “I know you didn’t mean to. I believe you.” Primrose smiled warmly, watching his tension slowly ebb away. “Plus, it was just a Mafia. There’s like, a million of ‘em, probably clones or something. I don’t think even the Mafia Boss cares if one were to go missing. They’re so robotic, I’m a bit surprised they’d even have a soul.”

Snatcher hid a snort behind his hand, biting his thumb to keep it from slipping. But when Primrose caught him hiding his laughter, she smirked. “Mafia no need soul,” She spoke in her most mocking Mafia accent, “Mafia do nothing but catch fish and get into argument over property settlement!”

The joke did it for Snatcher, slamming his fist on the table and wheezing loudly, before cracking into harsh and relentless laughter. He couldn’t stop himself as he cackled, until he laid his head on the table and desperately tried to catch his breath. He looked back up, seeing Primrose smile at him softly. He couldn’t help but smile back, getting up and opening the door for her. “Go ahead and relax for a bit. I’ll make something for dinner in a moment.”

Primrose walked out, pushing her chair back into the desk and looking to see what Harriet was doing. She was still on the same level of the game she was on before, and looked to be struggling. Snatcher followed out after Primrose, also looking at Harriet, before walking over.

“Hey, squirt.” Snatcher bent down next to her, nudging her cheek with his hand. “You doing okay?”

Harriet looked at him, but then back at her game.

“Hey now, I’m sorry for snapping before.” Snatcher rubbed her cheek. “You just caught me off guard. How about I help you with that game of yours?”

Harriet paused her game, looking up at her father. Then, she launched up at him, pulling him down by his neck for a hug. Snatcher gagged briefly, before smiling at his kid warmly. “Okay, okay, kiddo. Let go, you’re gonna put a kink in my neck.”

Snatcher sat down next to Harriet, pulling her onto his lap and taking the joycon from her as she handed it to him. Primrose watched as Harriet described what she thought the goal of the level was, and smiled as she watched the two giggle and play the game together.

  
  


Snatcher leaned back in his chair after finally finishing putting up dishes. Primrose had offered to help, but he’d politely declined her offer, telling her he could handle it himself. Harriet hopped up on his stomach, causing him to huff. “Kiddo,” He lightly scolded, while also smiling, “I just ate. You’re gonna make me hurl.” Harriet giggled, and curled up in between his arm and shoulder, before poking his cheek.

“Can we watch Murder on The Owl Express?” She chirped. Primrose smiled. She hadn’t seen that movie in a while. It’d be nice to watch again.

“Kid, do you watch anything other than Conductor’s movies? Why not Grooves’?”

Harriet buried her face in Snatcher’s hair. “I just like Conductor’s more.”

Snatcher snorted. “You’re lucky I agree, or else we wouldn’t watch them nearly as much as we do.” Snatcher grabbed a remote off of a nearby desk, and turned on the TV to the movie. Primrose walked over to the living room, sitting on another chair by herself. She looked over at Snatcher and Harriet, smiling at how close they were. They looked so sweet, sitting and watching the movie together, she could have sworn she was getting a cavity.

Snatcher had long dozed off by the time the movie was over. The Owl Express was one of the Conductor’s longest movies, and it dragged along at certain parts. The slow pace of the movie, alongside the dulling warmth in him, and laying next to Harriet, it was a perfect storm to put the lawyer to sleep. It was the sound of Harriet clapping that finally made him stir, seeing that the movie was done.

“Daaaad, did you fall asleep again?” Harriet whined.

“Whoops… sorry, kiddo, I did.” Snatcher ruffled her hair. “Hey, is Prim still here?”

“Yeah, she went into the kitchen.”

Snatcher gave Harriet another pat on the head. “Here, find a show to watch.” He handed her the remote, then sat up and stretched as he entered the kitchen. There, he found Primrose, digging through his fridge. “Excuse me, miss, are you looking for something?”

Primrose smiled and stood up, pulling out what looked like the last few slices of the pie he’d bought for himself and Harriet not too long ago. “Why, yes, and I just found it.”

Snatcher rolled his eyes and snickered quietly, taking the pie from Primrose and going into the cabinets to find plates. “Oh, peck, no plates.”

Primrose closed the fridge, walking over. “Well, we can share the pie tin- if that’s not a problem.”

Snatcher smiled. “Not at all.”

Snatcher sat down at the table, setting the pie tin between himself and where Primrose was about to sit. Harriet didn’t notice anything the two talked about, too sucked into watching Train Rush once more.

It was at least an hour after Train Rush began that Primrose had to leave. Harriet gave her a hug, already asking when she’d be back. Primrose herself didn’t know, but she was certain it wouldn’t be long. When Snatcher walked up, Primrose stuck her hand out for a shake, only for Snatcher to nearly throw himself onto her, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you.” He whispered, barely audible, before pushing himself off and clearing his throat as if he’d tripped instead of tossed himself into a hug. Primrose couldn’t help but smile at him as she left, looking at the blooming purple flowers in his front lawn.

Snatcher practically launched himself onto the couch, with Harriet piling on top of him. He smiled and brushed the hair out of her eyes, tapping her cheek. “It’s about ready to get in pjs, kid.”

Harriet shook her head. “Nuh-uh! I wanna stay up with you again!” Harriet wrapped her arms around his chest, burying her face into his sweater. 

“Fine, squirt, but you need a bath, regardless.” Snatcher picked her up by her torso, holding her over his head. “But, I suppose it can wait…”

He could help but smile widely as Harriet squealed with joy, breaking out of his hold and latching onto his face, nuzzling his hair. Snatcher chortled, pecking her forehead softly. “Come on, now, I’m getting hungry again. How about some cookies?”

“Yes! Can I have six?” Harriet beamed, stars in her eyes.

“Six?! Kid, how many cookies does Cat let you have? That’s more than I eat in one sitting. You’ll get cavities like that.”

“Nope! I brush my teeth extra good.” Harriet squirmed as Snatcher held her close, standing up and walking over to the kitchen with her slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s true.”

Snatcher was standing over the balcony that came off his room, a gentle breeze wafting through the still air. He looked over the backyard, which was extremely large, and had a nice view of the surrounding forest, even a part of the river. It was serene, calming even. The sky was clear, with the moon overhead. He felt at peace.

He’d finally managed to put Harriet to bed after getting her to take a bath, made sure she brushed her teeth EXTRA GOOD like she said she did, and sat with her as she fell asleep, reading her one of her storybooks and holding her hand under he was certain she was out. But Snatcher knew that he had to stay up. The effects of whatever he’d had… eaten… were starting to waiver. First, the warm feeling died down. Then, he started to feel hungry again, more so than usual. And now, he was feeling tired, and the soothing atmosphere wasn’t helping. So he’d gone and made himself a cup of coffee. He knew he really should sleep tonight, but he had to. Regardless of what had happened earlier, he had contracts to write before the night was over. But he hadn’t taken a sip yet, wanting to embrace the serene feeling before he had to lock himself up in that cage of an office, with nothing to do but write.

Snatcher felt his stomach twinge, but he ignored it. He knew he didn’t have to eat, but the feeling was near constant. He felt awful, eating so much, only to get sick in the morning. He kept his focus on the surrounding forest, listening to the calming noises of birds and crickets chirping.

“Daddy?”

Snatcher turned and saw Harriet in the doorway of the balcony, her owl doll in one hand, and blanket in another.

“Honey, why are you up?” Snatcher spoke softly. “It’s late. You should be in bed.”

“I had a nightmare.”

Snatcher felt his heart sink. “You… You wanna talk about it, kiddo?”

Harriet ambled over to stand by him, hugging his waist. “I had a nightmare that… that everyone was angry at me… that they all wanted to hurt me. There was a lot of the Mafia… Papa Connie… even… mom…”

Snatcher felt his breathing catch. He bent down, not noticing himself knocking over the mug of coffee off the edge of the balcony. “Harriet, sweetheart, no-”

Harriet looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “A-and Bow was th-there too- and Mu- a-a-and… a-and…” Snatcher pressed his face against her, kissing away a tear that fell. “A-a-and… y… you….”

Snatcher felt his heart twinge painfully. “Oh, Hattie…”

“Everyone w-was yelling a-at me… and started t-to get closer… a-and… and th… and then…” Harriet lost herself in her tears, whimpering and gripping Snatcher’s sweater tightly.

“Harriet, dear…” Snatcher wrapped his arms around her, pressing his forehead against her hair. “It was just a nightmare, sweetie… it wasn’t real.”

“...It felt real…” Harriet muttered. Snatcher sighed and gently picked Harriet up, turning to reach for his mug, only to notice it wasn’t where he’d left it. Looking over the balcony, he saw it had shattered on the porch.

“Oh, crumbs.” Snatcher mumbled, before shrugging it off. He didn’t like that mug anyways. “Here, since I’ve gone and goofed up with my coffee, let’s both take a break.”

Snatcher walked into his bedroom, closing the sliding glass door to the porch, locking it, and closing the curtains, before setting Harriet on the large bed that sat in the center of the room. “If it makes you feel better, you can sleep with me tonight, runt. No one’s gonna get you, I promise. If they try, well, they gotta get through the mean ol’ Snatcher first.” Snatcher grinned widely. Such a grin would have made anyone else shudder, but Harriet instead giggled and hugged her father’s arm. He then laid her down and made sure she had her owl doll, then sat himself down next to her. Harriet immediately clung back to his side, and Snatcher wrapped his arm protectively around her.

“G’night, kiddo.” Snatcher teased. He felt a slight tug on his ear, but couldn’t help but to chortle in return, before laying himself down and letting himself drift to sleep.


	3. Withdrawal

Snatcher readjusted his seatbelt, before waiting for Primrose to finish getting herself strapped into the car. They’d just dropped off Harriet to spend some time at Cat’s, so they could go get chores done. Snatcher had to grab groceries, pick up some suits from the dry cleaners (normally he’d fix his suits himself, but he had been too exhausted last week), and maybe sneak in a little walk with Primrose- who herself had a couple jobs to get done, like picking up some floral supplements for her plants.

“Alright, Prim, where first?” Snatcher sighed, one arm on the steering wheel with the other pulling his hair back. It stubbornly flopped back into place, the one strand refusing to leave the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s grab your suits first. Then we can go to the store, and then maybe have time for whatever else.”

Snatcher sighed softly before pulling out of the driveway. He waved at Harriet with one hand as he backed out, watching her friends practically pull her into the house to play a game. He gave one last smile, before it faded into his usual blank expression.

“Any plans later tonight?” Primrose asked, trying to keep him from getting too distant already.

“Hmm… not really. I was going to make one of Hattie’s favorites for dinner, but I suppose you could stay and eat with us if you’d like.” He didn’t break eye contact from the road, but Primrose could see his faint smile returning as he spoke.

“Well, as long as you don’t mind.” Primrose offered a smile, but Snatcher didn’t see it. It fell silent, which unnerved Primrose, but this time it was Snatcher who broke the silence.   
“Urm… Primrose…?” He glanced over at her for a brief second. “You wouldn’t mind going for a walk after we go to the market, would you..?”  
Primrose grinned at him. “Not at all, Luke.”  
He gave a stronger smile- then frowned at the mention of his real name. “How many times do I have to say it?”  
“What? You really want me to call you ‘Snatcher’ all the time?” Primrose nudged his arm, to which he rolled his eyes and focused back on the road. He’d never say it to her face, but he really didn’t mind it when she called him by his real name. After a moment of silence once more, they arrived at the dry cleaners.

“If you want, you can stay in the car.” Snatcher made a soft sigh, putting the vehicle into park and unbuckling himself. “I won’t be too long.”  
Primrose watched as Snatcher stepped out of the car and into the store. She pulled out her phone and distracted herself for a moment, though nothing too interesting was going on. So, she turned on the radio onto something quite soothing, and let herself dissociate for a moment. It wasn’t until she felt the car jostle that she realized Snatcher was already back, holding what seemed to be three sets of suits and pants over a single arm, climbing into the driver’s seat and hanging all three outfits on the hooks above the back row of seats.

“You weren’t gone long.” Primrose snorted.

“Really? It felt longer than it must have taken, then.” Snatcher fixed his current outfit- a semi-formal indigo dress shirt with a white undershirt and slacks- before pulling the seat belt over himself again. He hesitated, then turned to Primrose. “Prim, would you- you wouldn’t mind if- _urgh_.”  
Snatcher shook his head, resting it on the steering wheel with a soft groan. Primrose carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, as slow as she possibly could. She could feel him tense at the touch, but slowly, he leaned into her palm. He sat himself back up, moved the hair from his face, and tried again.

“You… you wouldn’t mind if we stopped by a restaurant before going to the markets, right? Just somewhere to grab something really quick.”  
“Are you getting hungry?”

“Well… a little.” Snatcher mumbled under his breath. “But… if you’re not hungry, it can wait.” Snatcher sat up straight, turning the ignition back on and readying the car in reverse.

“I wouldn’t mind grabbing a bite.” Primrose gave him a quick grin, and she could see his expression soften a bit. Primrose leaned back into the chair. “Plus, it's a bit of a drive to the market. I’m sure that we’d be hungry by the time we get there. Well, I know you’d be.”

His face dropped slightly, at the mention of his… issue. Primrose noticed this, and reached her hand over to his cheek, stopping just before she touched him. He saw her hand and, slowly, leaned against it. “Hey, now.” Primrose rubbed his cheek softly, minding the darked wounds that scarred his right cheek and neck. “I was just joking. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”  
Snatcher made a soft sigh, which nearly sounded like a purr to Primrose, before setting the car back into park and putting his hand on her wrist, then moving it to clasp it. “No, Primrose, it’s okay. Really.” He looked up at her and, to prove his point, took her hand in both of his, rubbing it with his thumb. “Don’t worry, you didn’t upset me at all.”

Primrose leaned back into her seat once he let go, letting him focus on driving. “Any particular place in mind?” Snatcher spoke after a long moment.  
Primrose shook her head. “No, you can pick whatever you want, I’ll be fine with whatever.”

Snatcher stared at his meal blankly. He’d gotten Primrose a burger, drink, and shake at her request, and decided to get himself the same thing to save time, as well as some fries to share between them. He’d parked in the lot, so that they’d both have a chance to eat, but he hadn’t touched his food at all. Primrose couldn’t help but notice and feel a bit worried for him.  
“Luke?” Primrose gently rubbed the back of his hand with her own. “Luke, are you okay?”

Snatcher shook himself back into reality upon feeling Primrose’s hand. His hand flinched away from hers, but he quickly grabbed it back and held it, firm but gentle. “What did you ask?”  
“I asked if you’re okay.” Primrose placed her food down in her lap, trying to be careful as to not make a mess in Snatcher’s car.

“O-oh- never better.” He nodded without an expression, before letting her hand go and trying to eat once again. Primrose reluctantly believed him, turning to continue eating.

Snatcher finally started eating, displeased to taste mustard on the sandwich when he’d specifically asked for both sandwiches to not have mustard. He held his tongue for Primrose’s sake, and decided to drown every bite out with the drink instead. He found that, by the time he was only half done with the sandwich, Primrose had almost finished her whole meal. Waiting for her to not pay attention to him, he stuffed the other half of the burger in the back, covered it with napkins, and balled it up, stuffing it in the cupholder of his door. He then took the shake he’d gotten and handed it to Primrose.  
“Here, Prim.” He waited for her to take it before he leaned back into his chair, brushing off the crumbs and sitting up. “You can have it. I overestimated myself, I think.”  
Primrose’s lie detectors immediately set off. Snatcher was always hungry and could eat a lot at once. There was no way a single burger was enough to curb his appetite. But she also knew that he was awful at drawing a line when he should stop eating or not, and she was well aware of how sick he could get in the mornings if he didn’t regulate himself well. She knew he would normally eat everything he was given, be it from actual hunger or just out of courtesy.

“No, no Luke. It’s yours. Have it.” Primrose handed it back to him with a smile. “Please eat. I know you’re hungry.”

Snatcher stared at the cup for a moment, before sighing in defeat and taking it back. Primrose moved the hair from his face, nudging his cheek to get him to smile. Snatcher muffled his giggle, giving Primrose a small smirk, before taking a sip and starting the engine once more. 

Snatcher could feel his stomach twist a little. He hissed silently at himself, before forcing his focus back on the road. He took a small, deep breath, then put the car in reverse and backed out.

  
  


Primrose and Snatcher walked through the crowded market streets in Mafia Town. They had quite a bit of groceries, with Snatcher balancing two baskets on either arm, and Primrose hauling along her own set of bins. Mafia Town undoubtedly had a surplus of good supplies and food, but it was rather expensive. It didn’t really bother Snatcher, however, since he was rather affluent. Primrose wasn’t quite as rich as he was, but he had no qualms with buying her groceries for her.

Primrose looked around at the different stores and shops around the store they were in. She’d never seen so many cheeses in one place, and those cuts of meat in the store next to it looked so well prepared! Was that a shirt store? A gentle nudge from Snatcher reminded her that they had to keep walking, or they might block the path.

“Um… Luke?” 

“Hm?” Snatcher didn’t bother correcting her- he was distracted by his intrusive hunger.

“I was going to ask if it wasn’t a… if it wasn’t a big deal if we could go by Moonjumper’s…?”

Snatcher rolled his eyes with a displeased groan. “Why _ Moon’s? _ What would you need from him?” 

Primrose winced at the aggression in Snatcher’s tone. “Well, I was going to drop off these seeds he asked for. He wanted to grow some hibiscus, I think.” Looking up at him, Primrose sighed. “Though, if it’s too big of an issue, I can just go by myself later-”

“No, no.” He waved his claws dismissively. “It’s alright. Really. I don’t mind.” He tried to make himself sound as believable as he could, though he wasn’t dull. He knew Primrose wouldn’t believe him.

“Why don’t you like him?” Primrose questioned. “Since you met him, you’ve… hated his presence.”

Snatcher sighed and stopped in his tracks, guiding Primrose to the side so that they weren’t in the way of other shoppers. He felt his stomach turn, but pushed it aside and focused on talking instead. “I… I don’t know, Prim. I just. I don’t know what I don’t like about him, but… something’s off. His voice, his demeanor, the way he tries to be so… buddy-buddy with everyone he meets, I don’t like it.”  
Primrose set her basket down. “You used to be that friendly.”

Snatcher hissed under his breath, his expression hardening.  **“Don’t.** ”

“I’m sorry.” She grabbed her baskets and tried to walk away, but stopped when she felt a cold hand on her shoulder.

“Prim- please wait.” Snatcher huffed something to himself, but Primrose couldn’t hear him. “Prim, I’m sorry. But… please don’t compare me to… then.”

She turned around and put a hand on Snatcher’s shoulder, brushing the hair away from his face. “It’s not your fault she cursed you.”

Snatcher hesitated, then muttered, “I know.”

“I know you’re trying to fight the curse’s effects on you.” Primrose paused and watched Snatcher start rubbing his wrists. “Maybe there’s something about the curse that makes you not like certain people. I mean, if a curse can turn you purple and give you pyrokinesis, I’m sure it’s not too hard for it to do that.”

She slowly took both of his hands in her own, rubbing over one of his palms with her thumb. She studied his face for a moment. He was trying to make himself smile, but it was a faux, just like the smiles he wore to work or in public. Forced and fake. “Snatcher.”

He glanced up at the sound of his… other name. Snatcher was dead silent, but his face said everything.

“The curse isn’t your fault. It’s not you.” Primrose brushed the stray hairs away from his face and pinned them behind his pointed ear. “I know you’re doing the best you can.”

Snatcher quickly looked away, trying to keep Primrose from seeing the tears collecting in his eyes. It didn’t do much, though, because after he looked away, she pulled his face back to face hers, and Primrose wiped the collected tears away before they could fall. “It’s okay, Luke.”

Snatcher sighed quietly and pulled his hands away, grabbing his baskets again. He also swiped Primrose’s before she could grab them herself. She sent him a rather displeased frown, but lightened up when she saw Snatcher. He was smiling, and genuinely this time. It was somewhere between a playful smirk and a thankful grin, but it was genuine nevertheless. “Thank you, Prim.” Snatcher whispered, so quiet Primrose could hardly hear. When she reached for her baskets again, Snatcher shook his head. “No, Prim, please, let me pay for them.”

Primrose accepted his offer with a nod, knowing he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. 

  
  


Snatcher ambled through the store, Primrose trying to stay right by his side- though the crowded shop wasn’t favorable to walk side-by-side in. He would occasionally look down to make sure Primrose was still next to him, and stopped when he couldn’t find her. Luckily for Primrose, Snatcher was taller than most of the Mafia, and was rather easy to find in a crowd, his lavender skin and violet hair sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of bald chefs in blue suits and white aprons.

Once they finished gathering what they needed, the store had emptied quite a bit, allowing for them to walk easily together without being rudely shoved around or bumped into. Primrose noticed how Snatcher was looking quite tired, and reached for his hand. Without looking at her, he took it in his own and held it firmly, which was strange on its own. Snatcher would only hold a grip that firm when shaking hands with a contractor. 

“Luke?” Primrose called him.

No response.

“Luke.” Primrose tried again, a little louder. She received an ear twitch, but not much else. He moved a tentative hand over his stomach, shaking just a little.

“Snatcher?” Primrose spoke once more, louder once more. She could feel a slight tremble in his arm, which worried her.

His grip weakened and he eventually let her hand go. His amble soon became a traipse, his posture faltering. Primrose could hear faint but labored breathing, his body trembling as though it was freezing-

In a split second, Snatcher stilled, his arms going faint and dropping the baskets, somehow without too much of a mess. His body swung side-to-side, more so with each swing, before he crumpled to the ground without a noise.

  
  


Snatcher sat in a chair, with a book in his arms. The cover of the book was blank, and the words on the pages looked like nothing more than a child’s scribbles. But for a reason beyond his knowledge, he smiled and continued to ‘read’, his fingers running along the brim of the book.

_ No… _

Snatcher closed the book and set it down beside him, standing up and stretching with a faint groan. He paused as he glanced at the bed, before deciding to move, practically throwing himself on the silky and plush blankets and extremely soft mattress. He would prefer it be a bit more firm, but anything for Vanessa.

“Luke?” A familiar voice called out, a voice both causing Snatcher’s mind to freeze, but his face to glow. 

_ No. No. NO. _

The ornate door slowly opened with a quiet squeal. Behind it, a woman in a lavish green dress stood behind, smiling at the sight of him. “Oh, Luke, there you are.”

“Vanessa.” Snatcher felt the words roll off his tongue with utter  **disgust** , despite his tone being sweeter than honey. He watched, with no control over his body, as she laid down next to him, draping an arm around his shoulders. Snatcher felt his mind twitch and squirm at  _ HER  _ being next to him and _ TOUCHING  _ him, but said and did nothing but smile and look at her. “You’re back early today.”

Vanessa giggled. “As are you.”

_ No. NO. Not this memory. Any but this- _

A gentle cry pierced the soft atmosphere. Leaping up at the sound, Snatcher paced to the source of the sound, picking up the swaddled infant. He sat himself back on the chair with the child in hand, giving her a finger to hold. “Oh, Harriet, dear, what’s the matter?”

The child, of course, didn’t respond in words, instead crying a little louder. Snatcher frowned, then smiled as he knew what to do.

  1. _WAKE UP. WAKE UP NOW._



Snatcher hummed a soft tune, a gentle melody he remembered from his childhood. A soft tune that his mother would hum to soothe his tears when he fell and hurt himself, or woke from a nightmare, humming the wordless song until his tears were dry. Snatcher wanted to stop. He  _ NEEDED _ to stop. But he didn’t. He kept humming, watching the little child’s face unscrunch, her little blue eyes watching his face with deep interest. Grabbing his finger, the child held it in her tiny hand with a vice grip, cooing softly.

Snatcher hummed the song a few times over, making sure Harriet was happy and content. As he finished the final stretch of the last round, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. 

_ LET GO OF ME- _

He leaned against the arm, closing his eyes and taking in a few deep breaths. Harriet curled into his chest, and Vanessa leaned rubbed his cheek with her other hand.

“Isn’t this perfect, my Prince?” His gaze connected to Vanessa’s, looking up at her with a gentle smile while she gave him a tired grin in return. 

_ LET ME OUT- _

“It is,” Snatcher cooed, looking down at little Harriet. “Look at her. She’s so… small. So beautiful.” Snatcher held Harriet closer, his eyes watery just from looking at her. He felt Vanessa’s hand move off his face and come to rest back on his shoulder. “My little Harriet. Our little Harriet.”

Snatcher brought his child up to his face, nuzzling her with his nose. Harriet giggled in return.

“My little princess.”

Snatcher felt the hand on his shoulder tighten,and to an almost to a painful degree, it became awfully cold. But he paid it no mind-

_ -YES HE DID- _

\- and instead focused on the child in his arms-

_ \- PLEASE WAKE UP- _

\- knowing everything would be alright in the end-

_ \- WAKE- _

\- even if the clouds made winter seem dreadful-

_ \- UP! _

Snatcher awoke with a startled shriek, several octaves higher than his usual deep tone. His mind was in a flurry, his stomach was in knots, his head was pounding, his vision was blurred and slow, unable to process what was happening _ \- so much at once- _

Snatcher gripped the sheets in his palms. Slow down. Try to remember.

He remembered shopping with Primrose. He remembered her calming him down. He remembered the store getting empty. His stomach twisting, starting dull and growing exponentially more painful. He remembered hot and cold down his spine and in his veins. Vision going blurry, seeing blues and greens and pinks and purples waft off of people and into the air, tingling his nose as he smelled nothing.

He remembered his body losing control. Feeling faint. Weak. And then… blank.

And then… he remembered… _ her. _

Snatcher shook his head violently, only to whimper at the dazed feeling the motion left behind. He heard a creaking noise, a little bit of light that practically blinded him-

“Dad-”

“Luke?” Two figures called out at once. Snatcher grunted in return, feeling the heat flashes return. His hand trembled, gripping the bed sheets tightly- wait, sheet? Wasn’t he at the store last-

Two hands grabbed his other palm, holding it gently. He forced himself to look over, and saw red and brown hair. He struggled to focus his vision, the migraine growing worse as he tried, but he could start to make out features and faces, outfits and outlines.

“P… Pr… Prim… H… H… Hat…” Snatcher groaned, his voice weak and trembly. He’d never heard himself so weak. Not since…

“Oh, shoot Luke! You’re burning up!” He heard Primrose’s voice, though it was strangely muffled. He could see a small figure hop onto the bed by his feet, looking at him with concern. Before he could speak to either of them, he felt a chilling and wet pressure against his forehead.

Snatcher trembled faster at the feeling. His stomach coiled. He heard himself make weak noises, noise that he couldn’t stop. Fearful whimpers, the cold, the cold, _ the cold, the COLD- _

“Luke, please, breathe.” 

“Dad?”

Snatcher felt a hand over his cheek. Small and soft. He turned his head, even if the slightest motion felt laborious. He forced his breathing to slow and lengthen, kept his eyes open, watching her face. Focusing.

“Ha… Har… Harriet.” Snatcher mewled. He twitched his hand weakly, trying to force it to Harriet. But it would hardly budge. Instead, he felt Harriet’s little hands wrap around his arm and bring his hand to her cheek, pressing it against her firmly. He twitched his thumb in an attempt to stroke his daughter’s cheek, to which Harriet nuzzled him in return.

“Dad…” Harriet kept her eyes on Snatcher, who did his best to focus on her over the chills and tremors. 

He felt another hand rest on his shoulder, slowly, as to not startle him. He didn’t have to turn his head to know who it was.

“Pr… Prim.” His voice was hoarse and dry, but he did his best to speak clearly.

“Luke, can you sit up?” Primrose questioned. Snatcher closed his eyes.  _ Could he?  _ Trying to gather what little strength he had left, he tried to prop himself up on his elbows, only for violent cold waves to rip down his back, his insides churning into mush. With a feeble whimper, he fell back down, only having been able to sit up a few inches off the bed.

“Luke- I’m sorry, don’t stress yourself.” Primrose lifted the sheet back up to his neck. “Harriet, you should go finish your lunch.”

Snatcher watched wordlessly as Harriet hopped off the bed and walked to the doorway. She paused and turned back, giving her father a sad and worried look, before closing the door behind her.

Snatcher leaned back into the pillows behind him, the heat flashes were too much, even for him. “Luke,” Primrose whispered, “you need to drink something. Here, I’ll help you sit up.”

Being mindful of his arms, Primrose wrapped her own arms around Snatcher’s torso and carefully hoisted him up against the backboard of the bed, making sure there were plenty of pillows to cushion his back and neck. Snatcher did his best to try to move himself, but almost any movement at all shot pins and needles up his limbs, so he instead resigned to laying back. Even though he dreaded the thought of letting himself be so weak.

Lifting a glass off the table, Primrose held it in front of Snatcher. “Here, drink this. I’ll hold it.”

“N-no.” He shook his head as best he could. “I d… don’t need hel… help drinking.”

Primrose sent him a rather displeased glare, though no ill-will was directing towards him. “I don’t need you dropping the cup or drinking more than you can handle. Please, Lu, get over your pride and let me help you.”

Ah, there it was, the blasted nickname. Unoriginal as it was, he’d never been able to turn her down when she used it on him.

Swallowing his pride, Snatcher sighed in defeat. She rested one hand behind his head, and lifted the cup for him to drink. It wasn’t hard to tell he was thirsty, as she had to practically rip the cup away from him so he could actually breathe. It was just water- lukewarm and dull-tasting- but it was better than nothing to Snatcher. Though it wasn’t food, so it caused his stomach to throw fits.

“Lu, Luke please slow down. You’ll choke.” Primrose took the cup back, setting it on the table. She then slowly moved him back down on his back, and fixed the thin sheet back over his chest.. Snatcher breathed deeply, then cleared his throat once or twice before attempting to speak.

“Pr… Prim. Pri… Primr _ ossse. _ ” He slurred the last bit of her name, but he spoke much more clearly now. “Wh… what…”

“What happened?” Primrose finished, fixing hair to more neatly hang off the bed, rather than his over his face. She took the rag off his forehead and placed it on the desk nearby. She felt his forehead with the back of her hand to confirm, yes, his temperature had lowered. “Well,” Primrose leaned back, “You and I were out in the markets, almost done shopping, and… you started to shiver and quake, and then you just-” Primrose made an odd waving gesture with her hand, “- fell over and passed out.

“You gave me a scare, really. You wouldn’t respond when I tried to talk, you shook so violently, I thought you might be seizing. One of the Mafia came by after seeing you fall, though. The goofy one, you know, with the weird glasses that talks about aliens and ghosts. Turns out he’s a lot more sympathetic than the other Mafia because he offered to help buy  _ ALL _ the groceries so I could get you help.”

Snatcher kept silent, listening to what had happened while he’d fainted. He found it hard to believe that  _ ANY  _ Mafia would ever help someone, let alone pay for someone else’s groceries, but he didn’t dwindle on it for too long.

“I carried you back to the car- you’re not as heavy as you look- and had to grab your keys off you to drive. I didn’t have very many options, other than that. I hope you don’t mind that I drove your car, by the way. I know you’re awfully reserved on who messes with your things. Anyways- got off topic, whoops- I went back to Cookie’s to go pick Harriet back up. Cookie took a look at you and said you needed bedrest and to call a doctor if you didn’t wake up soon, so I came back here and took you to your bed and got you settled. Harriet insisted on taking in the groceries, I didn’t have the energy to argue with her though. And… yeah, you woke up and now we’re here.”

Snatcher closed his eyes and lethargically opened them again, his migraine making it hard to feel rested at all. Sure, it was ebbing, but at the pace of a snail.

Primrose gently held one of his arms, feeling over the gloves he always wore, before taking the glove in question off. She frowned, and got up and went into the bathroom outside the bedroom. When she came back, she had a new rag and a bucket of water. She took the rag, dipped it in the bucket, and started to wipe his arm down to clean off the dried sweat that had no doubt collected. “Now you tell me, why did you scream like that? You had me and Hattie thinking someone had broken in.”

“I… _ *ahem!*- _ I had a… a rather… unpleasant dream.” Snatcher watched Primrose clean off his arm, too tired to tell her she didn’t have to do all this for him. 

“Do you wanna talk about it…?” She asked, setting his arm under the sheet and taking his other arm to repeat the process.

“It was… hrm… about _ her _ …”

“Oh.” She paused, then plopped the rag back into the bucket. “I’m sorry, Luke.”

“No, don’t be, it’s okay.” Snatcher felt his heart twist, seeing Primrose look so concerned. “It was… just a memory. One of the sadder ones.”

Trusting that he was really as okay as he said he was, Primrose grabbed the rag out of the bucket, wrung it out until it was just a bit moist, then went back to cleaning off his arm.

“I’m sorry if the cold rag was a bit of a shock.”

“No, no, it’s alright. Really, it actually helped.” Snatcher winced as his voice cracked once or twice in quick succession. “Is Harriet.. Is she okay?”

Primrose smiled and nodded. “Seeing how sick you got, she handled it better than I did. She’s actually the one who brought you all those pillows.”

“Figures. They’re all soft. No support.” Snatcher huffed to himself. 

“...”

“...”

“... Lu?”

_ Uh-oh. _

“Luke, is this because of the withdrawal?” Primrose’s smile faded into a concerned and mildly peeved frown. 

“Um…” Snatcher looked down, trying to avoid answering.

“Lu.”

_ Dang it. _

“Y-yeah, it is.” Giving a defeated groan, Snatcher tried to avoid eye contact.

“Did you know it was coming?” Primrose prodded further.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? We could have stayed home-”

“I wanted for our plans to stay in place. I wasn’t expecting it to be  _ so bad this time- _ ” Snatcher started having a coughing fit, spitting out as many words as he could before he choked on them. He doubled over, his stomach starting to spasm a bit as he coughed. Primrose took quick action and hoisted him back up against the backboard, grabbing the glass and giving him more to drink.

Now that he wasn’t dying for a drink, Snatcher didn’t need nearly as much water. Primrose let him drink, then laid him back down. He felt a soft shiver of cold trail up his spine and through his gut as he tried to adjust back to how he was laying before.

It had been about two months since Snatcher had… discovered his new abilities. Having accidentally lost control and swiped a soul out of a rather annoying Mafia, and proceeded to plop it into his mouth like an M&M, Snatcher had found that that soul had made him stronger. Eating it soothed his hunger, made him feel awake, made him feel strong. But it wasn’t without guilt. He didn’t want to eat the Mafia’s soul. He didn’t want to feel so… normal about it. He felt strange, not being burdened by his curse’s effects. He hated the thought of having to eat souls to stay that way. So he didn’t. Despite the voice in his head that told him he should, he refused to touch another soul. Even a Mafia’s.

But the choice didn’t come without consequence. After a day or two without eating a soul, he started having migraines and cramps, chills and tremors. Since then, these episodic symptoms only worsened, returning every few days and slightly stronger each time, sometimes with new or spontaneous other symptoms. He’d dealt with vertigo several times, as well as nausea a few times. But… it’d never gotten so bad that he’d actually passed out.

Anytime he felt the withdrawal coming on, he’d made an effort to go home, or get somewhere alone, and call Primrose. He’d been having to leave work early more often, sometimes pushing through the symptoms just to get to Harriet. At one point, it had worsened while he was at Catherine’s, and she insisted he stayed for the night, even after he felt better. She made him lay down on the couch and fed him soup, while also trying- and failing- to keep the orphans from gathering around their role model, trying to help him and racing each other to grab him a book or an ibuprofen. He appreciated their efforts, though he tried to sway them into playing by themselves, most all of them, even Harriet’s friends Bow and Muriel, sat by his side the whole night. When he’d woken up, he’d found at least eight other kids, as well as Harriet and her friends, all surrounding him on the couch, chairs, and floor, fast asleep. 

Primrose ran her hand through his hair, then sat down at the edge of the bed, placing her hand near Snatcher’s right cheek. Snatcher leaned against the hand, accepting the embrace, humming faintly as she started to run her thumb over the outline of his scar.

“I’m sorry she did this to you.”

Snatcher opened an eye that had closed briefly as he was lost in thought. “Hm?”

“Her, I mean. I’m sorry that she cursed you, and that she’d hurt you so much that it still hurts you now.” Primrose retreated her hand with a sigh. “I wish I knew what she was doing to you. I could’ve helped you.”

Snatcher shook his head very slowly and weakly, as to not shake himself up again. “No, Prim, don’t… don’t try to blame yourself.” He reached over and grabbed her shoulder. “It was never your fault.” He winced, the cold shivers starting to pick up pace.

Primrose smiled at him, then frowned. “You should get some rest, try sleeping again. Once you wake up, I can get you something to eat. Do you… need anything, before I go occupy Harriet?”

Snatcher leaned back. “A warm blanket would be heavenly.”

Primrose nodded, and opened the closet door by Snatcher’s bed. Everything was neatly folded or hung up, so much so that it looked rather empty, despite him having at least ten different suits hanging on a small rack, not to mention the other dress clothes, shoe rack, bedding cubbies, and a large dresser in the middle of it all. “ _ Neat freak _ ,” Primrose teased, turning to wink at Snatcher, who had been ready to glare.

When Primrose turned around and closed the door with her foot, she placed a rather large and puffy white comforter at the foot of the bed. “Will this one do?”

Snatcher nodded. She then took the comforter and draped it over him, adjusting it to come up to his neck and pinning the corners under the edges of the bed.

Primrose sat back down, and put a tentative arm over Snatcher’s chest. When she saw him relax, she moved in for a weak hug. “If you need me, please don’t hesitate. I’ll be here all day.”

“But Moon’s seeds-”

“Moon can wait, I’m sure he’ll understand. It’s not urgent, anyways.”

Sighing, she pulled back from the hug and rubbed his cheek. Snatcher huffed, not wanting to be bedridden or treated like a child. Sensing his unrest, Primrose offered up the warmest smile she could.

“Please, Lu, I know you don’t like being dependent. But please, for your own health, just relax for the day and let us take care of you.”

Three times in an hour, using that name against him. Was that a record?

He grumbled something that vaguely sounded like “ _ okay, _ ” which was enough to reassure Primrose. She patted his head, making him puff up in a mane of his own hair, before she closed the door quietly.

With nothing better to do, Snatcher laid in silence. He couldn’t use his phone, his eyes were too sensitive at the moment. He couldn’t get out of bed to grab a book, and he really hated the idea of calling Primrose back to his room just to fetch a novel. So, he adjusted himself in the bed, ignored his hunger, closed his eyes, and let himself drift.

  
  


When Snatcher opened his eyes, he found himself standing in a large room, with fancy red wallpaper and nice furniture all around the middle. The smell of a freshly lit fireplace filled the room- but it was deathly cold. That wasn’t the only reason he was shaking.

_ Why these memories… _

Snatcher looked up to see her- Vanessa, standing by the large window that stood nearly as tall as the wall itself, providing a nice view to the outside of her rather extravagant manor. It was raining rather harshly outside, and the atmosphere between himself and her seemed so thick, a knife couldn’t cut it.

_ Oh. _

_ Oh no. _

Snatcher felt himself act on his own accord, too frozen in the fear of reliving another memory that he didn’t even bother trying to stop himself.

“How could you.” Vanessa spoke, sounding more like a statement than a question. “You’ve gone to that school for  _ THREE  _ years now.  _ THREE _ . And now we have a child, Luke. A child. You just want to leave me here with a child, Luke? All by myself!” Vanessa whirled around, her golden hair getting caught over her nose as it frayed out in the air, giving her a desperate and almost crazed look.

_ ‘If only I’d seen it sooner.’ _

“Nessie, please,” Snatcher took a step forward, reaching his hand out to her. “Please, sweetheart, it’s just _ one more  _ semester-”

“ _ A WHOLE YEAR WHERE YOU’RE NOT HERE WITH ME!! _ ” Vanessa shrieked, sending chills down Snatcher’s spine and making him step back a few steps from fear. He hoped that Vanessa’s yelling didn’t wake up little Harriet, who was fast asleep in her crib. “You’re leaving me  _ AGAIN!  _ Another whole year, and now it’ll be with a child to take care of, all by myself!”

Snatcher tried to walk forwards again, this time a bit slower and more quiet. “Vanessa, please, I’ll come back as often as I can, I promise-”

“If you love me, you’d stay.” Vanessa hissed, and Snatcher froze.

_ ‘I was such a fool.’ _

Snatcher took a moment to breathe. “I do love you-”

“Then you’ll stay?”

“Vanessa, I can’t-”

“Just tell them you’re not coming this year.”

Snatcher shook his head. “I can’t, dearest. I have to graduate, I can’t put it off. If I do, I can get a good job, and we can spend more time as a family.”

“But I have enough money for us both!” Snatcher winced, retroactively realizing how often she left Harriet out of the equation. “You don’t need to work!”

“Nessie, my love, inheritance will run out eventually. If I get a job, you can relax at home with Harriet, and I can be home every night and weekend with you.” Snatcher finally made it next to her, shakily placing a hand on her shoulder.

Next thing he knew, he was on the floor, tears welling in his eyes and a pained feeling on his cheek, while Vanessa loomed over him. The glint of the fireplace made her eyes look rather warm, almost red, even. Even in a memory, it took Snatcher a brief moment to realize what had happened. He looked at Vanessa’s hand. It was red and tense. And the tears of his past flowed. She’d struck him square in the face.

Vanessa stared at him, huffing softly. Then, she fell on her knees in front of him and held him close. He tensed the moment her hand wrapped around him.

“Oh, my prince, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you weren’t listening!” Vanessa whimpered and whined, clinging to him.

_ Snatcher felt his heart racing. _

_ He had to get out. _

_ He had to wake up. _

_ WAKE UP. GET OUT. GO AWAY. _

But his mind wouldn’t listen. Instead, he felt his arms act on their own as they wrapped around Vanessa in an attempt for comfort, for assurance in her words. Instead, Vanessa shook them away, wanting to be the one clinging to him and not the other way around. Swallowing his fear, Snatcher felt the words roll off his tongue.  
“I promise I’ll call and write to you, every chance I get, my dear.” Vanessa looked up at him. “I know you don’t want me to go, but love… I’m doing this for us. Just one more year, and then my school will be over.”

“No tutor?”

“No tutor.”

“Everyday?”

“Everyday.”

Vanessa made a soft squeal and held him closer, her frigid hands grabbing his tightly and refusing to let go. Snatcher felt his face force a smile, but his brain was just as scattered as it was in his memory.

“I love you, my prince.” Vanessa cooed, holding Snatcher still.

“...” Snatcher felt his body shake and his vision grow blurred as he tried to hold the words back, but in the end, his dream won over. “Me too, love.”

_WAKE_ _  
_ _UP._

  
  


Snatcher awoke with a start, jolting upright faster than his body could take. Vertigo set in, and Snatcher felt his body weight shift upwards, and he nearly thought he was about to blow chunks. He quickly leaned to the side towards the bed, groaning and struggling to keep his eyes open. Luckily, someone heard and opened the door.

“Luke?”

Snatcher forced his eyes open to see Primrose hurry to him, quickly hoisting him back against the pillows and the blanket covering his chest. “Luke, dear, what’s wrong?”

He groaned, unable to speak for a moment out of shock and dizziness. Finally forcing himself to speak, he whispered, “Bad dream.”

“Was it another bad memory?” Primrose rubbed his hand softly and slowly to try to calm him. Not wanting to speak any further about it, Snatcher nodded, giving Primrose a tired look with his eyes half lidded and his face pale and sunken from feeling so awful.

Primrose sighed. “Your fever spiked before you fell asleep I think. It’s fluctuated, but it hasn’t reached nearly as high as it was. You should still rest, though, even if you do feel better.”

Snatcher glanced aside to see a bottle of water, clearly left for him since Primrose was holding her own. He tried to reach for it, but it was just out of arm’s length. Snatcher huffed, then, forcing every bit of energy he had into his arms and back, pushed himself upright. He closed his eyes tightly, wading off the dizzy spell, then swiped the bottle off the desk and opened it, downing at least a third of the bottle in one go. His stomach quivered, but he pushed the feeling out of his mind.

“Well, at least you can hold yourself up now. That’s good.” Primrose sat down on the bed opposite from Snatcher, laying back to look at him from below. She smiled at him. “You look better than before. A bit of color’s come back to your face, and you’re not stressing as hard.”

Snatcher grinned faintly, before laying back against the pillows again. “Harriet… what’s she doing…?”

“I actually got her to settle in for a nap.” Primrose shot him a sneaky smile. “I promised I’d let her stay up tonight if she slept in for a nap.”

Snatcher raised an eyebrow. “Really? Even Catherine’s never been able to do that. Well done.” Snatcher splayed his arms out on the bed, feeling sweat cake them again.

“Are you getting a bit warm again?” Primrose questioned.

Snatcher slowly nodded. As much as he detested the cold feeling of the water against his skin, he did prefer the cool feeling afterwards to the sweltering heat. Even if he could control fire, and preferred the heat, even he had a limit…

Primrose pushed herself off the bed, walking over to Snatcher’s side. She took the rag off of the bucket, dunking it in the water several times before wringing it out. She gently pressed the rag against his hand, letting him adjust to the cold press, before rubbing it up and down his arm, wiping away the unpleasant moist feeling and the sweltering heat that seemed to pulse from his own arm.

“So, Luke,” Primrose started to speak, trying to pass the time as she cooled him off, “Would you want something to eat after this?”

Snatcher contemplated the offer, then sighed. “Yeah, I would…”

“Alright then, I’ll ask what you’re up for having when we’re done here, then.” Primrose set the rag down, reaching for a hand towel she’d brought with her to dry off his arm. She took a moment to look at Snatcher’s hand, which was nearly always covered by a glove of some sort. It was relatively normal, aside from being rather large compared to her own (which was on the small side), and tinted purple, like the rest of his skin. What interested her was his dark black nails, which were long and sharp to a point. “Do you file them like this?”

“Hm?” Snatcher looked over, having zonked out briefly. “Oh, no. They’ve been that way since I got cursed. They don’t grow or break, for whatever reason.”

Primrose hummed in curiosity before finally setting his hand down by his side, rewetting the rag, and cleaning off his other arm. “Do you want me to clean off your face?”  
Snatcher shook his head. “No, please don’t… I don’t think I can take the cold that close to my face.”

She glanced away. “Sorry.” Snatcher felt a little twitch of guilt, and held her arm with his free hand, dragging a clawed finger up and down her arm.

When Primrose finished, she rested her head on her arms, settling right next to Snatcher while she sat next to him. He had a hand mindlessly buried in her hair, having fiddled her braid loose. She didn’t mind, she could fix it once he had tired himself out and back to sleep. Snatcher felt tired, but his mind wouldn’t let him sit still after the last nightmare he’d gotten. He felt a bad feeling that if he fell asleep again, yet another bad dream would come his way. He’d much rather sit and focus on Primrose or Harriet.

Come to think of it, he realized he hadn’t really seen Harriet all day. He stopped playing with Primrose’s hair at the realization. He wanted to go check on her, but she was asleep- not to mention he was on bedrest. Snatcher rubbed his eye and pulled his arm back from Primrose’s hair, now noticing she herself had drifted off.  _ ‘Perhaps her being asleep next to me would help’ _ , Snatcher pondered. He hoped it did.

He fiddled around in her grip until his hand was held firmly in hers. He leaned back, sighing and stretching himself out, pushing himself under the comforter, and tried one last time to sleep.

  
  


Next thing he knew, he was trembling and whimpering. Everything was frigid around him, his body laying feebly on the cold floor. A painful pressure held his biceps against the wall, and another clamp sat around his ankle loosely. Any attempt to move it was thwarted by a heavy weight, keeping it still. The sound of heavy rain pounded against his eardrums. Blazing sensations of  **thirst, hunger, exhaustion** .

_ No… not this one… _

His eyelids were heavy, painfully heavy, as if a layer had covered them in his sleep. Snatcher forced them open, and they still sank low, but he saw enough to confirm his suspicions. He was sitting in the garage, the car absent from the room. In fact, everything was absent. Just an empty room, aside from leaking water from the outside rain, which had started to frost over.

_ … _

Snatcher whimpered, unable to do much else. Hunger bit at him, thirst, exhaustion, pain…

**_… heartbreak…_ **

Snatcher heard a door creak open, and, forcing his body to respond, looked up at it. In the doorway, she stood. She looked so much different, her body emitting a shadowy force that made him tremble from fear and freeze. Her dress hung down to her ankles, now a deep and dark emerald instead of a vibrant lime. Her eyes… burning red against a shadow…

“V… Van…” Snatcher tried to speak, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate. Instead he tried to reach out, as best he could with his arm held back.

“ **Oh, my sweet prince… sweet, foolish prince…** ” Vanessa sauntered over to him, swaying as she stepped. “ **Don’t act innocent now.** ”

Snatcher knew exactly what would happen, and that there was no stopping it, yet he still tried anyways. But just as before, nothing he wanted to say came out, instead the voice of his past speaking for him. “D… dea… r....”

“ **You cheating bastard.** ” Vanessa hissed, spitting in his face. She grabbed the chain around his leg, tightening it more against the large ball weight that sat against the wall. “ **You womanizer** .”

“No… n-no… Van… V-Van, I… I’d ne…  _ never _ …” Snatcher winced as his jaw kept locking in place as he spoke, but he willed himself to speak- or, his memory did. Vanessa giggled ominously.

“ **A liar too.** ” Vanessa hissed, reaching down and grabbing his chin in her hand. Her nails were sharp and cold, burning frost against his skin. Pain. “ **Shame, I had so much faith in such a man.** ”

“I nev… never… cheated…” Snatcher leaned into her hand, in spite of the freezing touch. Swift and painful, Vanessa’s hand struck his face, the echo resounding off the walls.

“ **LIAR! I SAW YOU WITH THAT WRENCH, YOU CANNOT FOOL ME.** ” Vanessa screeched, anger shining in her ruby eyes.

“I… was buying… flowers…” Snatcher coughed, struggling. “For… f-for you…”

He felt another blow land, this time a kick to his chest. The wind was knocked out of him fast, and he coughed and wheezed to try to maintain himself.

“ **YOU TAKE ME FOR A FOOL. HOW COULD I EVER LET YOU TRICK ME.** ” Vanessa growled. “ **HOW COULD I HAVE EVER BEEN SO FOOLISH TO MARRY A** **_CASANOVA_ ** **LIKE YOU?** ”

Snatcher winced at the insults she threw at him, even if he knew himself they weren’t true. Tears pricked the sides of his eyes, the only warmth he had. Even then, it didn’t take long for those tears to freeze over and fall as little icicles, snowflakes onto the floor.

“Har… Harriet…” Snatcher whimpered, pushing himself up off the floor, only to fall back down after lifting only a few inches. Vanessa practically threw her head back and cackled.

“ **Oh, the little brat? Don’t worry, she’s fast asleep in her crib where you left her. I have a servant watching her… maybe you can see her again after you’ve learned your lesson.** ”

Snatcher whimpered again, weaker this time around. Vanessa leaned down to his level, holding his chin up. “ **Don’t cry, my prince. After all, you said it yourself:** **_‘I am your soulmate.’_ ** ”

With that, she stood up and turned around, then stopped dead in her tracks. Snatcher felt fear crawl up his body as Vanessa turned around-

_NO_

\- a wicked smile written on her face-

_ MERCY, PLEASE _

\- and she whirled around, clawed hand poised to strike, slashing it against the side of his face, blood spraying from his wound as he let out a pained shriek, his body dropping from the blow-

**_WAKE UP_ **

  
Snatcher awoke with a shriek, his body trembling and his mind in a flurry. Everything was hazy, his gut doing backflips, his skull thumping painfully against his head, unable to focus on anything-

“Luke?”

_ NO _

Snatcher glanced out of the corner of his eye, to the source of the noise.

_ Red. _

**_NO, NOT AGAIN_ **

Snatcher slashed out with his clawed hand before curling in on himself. “GO AWAY,” he begged, “LEAVE ME BE!”

Primrose just barely dodged his talons, falling back against the wall. Snatcher had been whimpering and whining, which woke her up, and she tried to wake him up and out of his bad dream. But when he awoke, he was in such a nervous state…

“Luke-”

“PLEASE, GO AWAY! MERCY!”

Primrose took a step forward, then stopped. She’d never seen Luke act so… fearful, before. Before or after his curse, even when he was sick or shaken, he’d never once acted in such a vulnerable manner. Primrose swallowed the lump in her throat and, as slowly and gentle as she possibly could, she placed her hand on Snatcher’s arm.

He immediately flinched, and, when she didn’t let go, he curled in tighter and whispered, “Princess, _ please _ …”

_ Oh. _

Primrose let go of his arm, which he quickly hid back into himself, his hair practically covering his whole side. She could see him trembling, hear him whining, and it pulled at her heart to see her friend in such a state. With a sigh, she whispered softly, “Lu, it’s okay.”

Snatcher started trembling faster, but she could see the glow of a yellow eye peeking out from under the layer of hair that blocked both of their views.

Primrose gently tried to brush some of her hair aside, moving herself to sit right next to him. “Lu, look at me, you’re okay.”

Snatcher whined as he tried to focus his hazy vision. He could see red, and that was enough to send him into a fit. But as he kept staring, the red started to focus, and his shaking slowed as he realized she wasn’t there.

Primrose put her hand on his arm again, gently, which made him flinch back a little, but didn’t stop him. She slowly rubbed his arm, and spoke softly, “Luke, I promise you’re safe.”

Snatcher’s quick and un-rhythmic breathing slowed just a bit as he kept his focus on Primrose. Primrose took her hand off of his arm, and gently placed it on his cheek. He pushed his face against her palm, before whining and pulling away.  _ ‘No. You can’t act that way. People don’t care for clinginess. Didn’t you ever listen to a word she said?’ _

Just as fast as he’d pulled himself away, however, he was met with her palm on his face again, this time rubbing her thumb on his cheek. He looked at her in surprise, finally realizing who was in front of him.

“P-Prim-”

“Shhhh, you got really spooked just then. You should sit and relax for a moment.” Primrose kept her eyes on him, rubbed his hand gently with her free hand. Snatcher stared at her, partially dumbfounded and partially still shaken.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why… why are you putting your hand… on my cheek?”

“Oh, do you not like that? I’m sorry, I just-” Primrose moved her hand back just the slightest amount, only for Snatcher to quickly press his face against her palm again. He whined, cursing himself for being so clingy, but he didn’t know if he could stand not having the support. But a rushing wave of guilt crashed on him, for being such a leech, and he let go of her hand, and scooted himself back.

“Prim… m… I’m sorry… I-”

He never got to finish his apology, at least, not before Primrose wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug, her face buried between his hair and shoulder. She held him tightly in her arms, trying to be gentle while also trying to hold him as closely as she could. Everything seemed to fall silent, until Snatcher’s voice broke the silence. It was so quiet, so soft, Primrose nearly mistook it as Harriet watching TV.

“.. _. why _ …?”

Without looking up, Primrose answered. “Why what, Lu?”

“Why… why are you being… so _ nice _ …?”

Primrose backed away, just a bit so she could look at him in the face- only to be met with Snatcher, silent as he seemingly bawled his eyes out. She was quick to start wiping tears off his face with her sleeve, keeping one arm tightly wrapped around his chest as Snatcher sputtered and gasped for air between quiet breaths and sobs. Primrose swiftly started to reassure him, holding his head down to rest on her shoulder.

“Oh, Luke.”

“I-I… _ I-I-I- _ ”

“Shhhh… take it easy…”

“Why… hug…?”

Primrose paused briefly. “Because… because I care about you, Lu. I’ve known you since we were little… Seeing you so scared and shaken… it hurt me a little.”

A brief pause, once again.

“... she told me, once… that I was too  _ clingy _ … when she was upset, I’d come right to her and hold her until she calmed down… but when I asked her the same for me… she told me to get over myself…” Snatcher mumbled, fumbling with his hands.

Primrose felt a bit of anger boil in her, though it was totally directed towards Vanessa. She quickly let it go, in favor of comforting Snatcher’s shaken nerves. “No, not at all… you’re not clingy for wanting comfort, or even if that’s how you show affection… you know she was awful. You don’t have to listen to her or what she said. You’re free. You’ve been free.”

Snatcher whispered something inaudibly, under his breath, before slowly putting either arm around Primrose and pulling her close. Primrose did the same, rubbing his back when she felt him start to tremble.

“It’s okay, Luke, you can cry here.”

With those words, Snatcher cracked, and started to sob once more, holding Primrose closely, as if his life depended on it.

  
  
  


It took quite a bit for Snatcher to finally calm himself down. The stress of his invading memories, piled on with his awful withdrawal… he couldn’t help but crack under the least bit of comfort. It didn’t bother Primrose, however. She was quite fine with conforming him as long as he needed it. When he finally managed to stifle his tears and shaking, Primrose stayed by him, talking. Trying to avoid talking about his nightmare, for now, until he was ready to do so on his own. To distract him from the terribly cold rag she placed on his forehead to ease his fever, which started to rise from his panic, or from the burning feeling in his stomach that just couldn’t go away already.

“Luke, lay back down.” Primrose ordered as Snatcher, who was sick of the formal clothes, tried to will himself up to change. Snatcher huffed, flopping back down. He was starting to feel better- his stomach was still throbbing, but when was it not? His migraine had faded quite a bit, and the body aches had eased, too- not to mention the cold and hot flashes had finally ceased. But Primrose was hellbent on making sure he wasn’t about to have a second episode, and insisted he lie.

“Can I at least get a change of clothes?” Snatcher grunted, feeling his throat start to dry again. He’d already downed a bottle of water, but Primrose had the foresight to grab another ahead of time. “And maybe some more water, Prim?”

Opening the closet and digging through his dresser, Primrose pulled out a sweater- something Snatcher seemed to have a surplus of- and tossed it over her shoulder, where it landed on Snatcher’s chest. She then whirled around, grabbing the spare water from the chair that sat by the window, and walked it back to Snatcher. He muttered something under his breath, likely a ‘thank you’, then downed seemingly half the bottle with a single swig.

Primrose peered out of the curtains, watching the Sun start to set. Given the time of year, Primrose had a feeling Harriet would be getting hungry.

“Luke, you stay here. I’ll go make something for you and Harriet.” Primrose stood up, stretching, and closing the curtains to keep from irritating Snatcher’s eyes.

_ “No.” _

“What?” Primrose stopped in her tracks, turning to see Snatcher, sitting up with a cross look on his face.

“I said, ‘ _ No _ ’.” Snatcher hissed, a snake-like tongue flicking out.

“Luke, you’ve got to eat.”

“You’re  _ not _ cooking.”

“And why is that, hm?” Primrose felt a bit peeved that Snatcher would bring out his stubborn side now, when he was bedridden and should be resting, not arguing.

“You’re our guest, I don’t want you working more than you already have.” Snatcher growled a little. Primrose took it back, his stubbornness was a bit justified, here. He’d always been one for manners, seeing how he was raised by his family to hold respect dearly. And it was true, she had been helping him nearly all day, making sure he was comfortable and recovering. But still, he was in no shape to be near an oven, and Harriet shouldn’t.

“Not even to go pick something up to eat?”

“You already wasted your time on me, I’m not letting you waste money too.”

“It’s not wasting if- ugh.” Primrose held the bridge of her nose in her hand. She hated to argue with Snatcher, and she really didn’t want to do so now. “What about Hattie? What’s she gonna do?”

“I’ll make something for her-“

“No, you’re not.” Primrose cut him off swiftly. “I’m not letting you go and cook when you’re in the shape you’re in now. Luke, listen-” Primrose walked back over to Snatcher, placing her hand over his. “- let me do this for you. You always pay for my things, even when I don’t ask, you work so hard for yourself and Harriet, and you’ve been through so much. Let me do something for you for once.”

“...” Snatcher averted his eyes, looking off to the door of his balcony, then at his lap. “... I guess.” Primrose smiled, lifting a hand from Snatcher’s to rub his cheek. He glanced up at her and, in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit, reflected her own smile.

“It’ll be okay. If you don’t want to sleep, you don’t have to. Just try to relax while I go try to find something to cook.” Primrose patted his cheek a few times, then pushed him just enough to get him to lay back down again. She knew Snatcher wasn’t one to sit and watch others do work for him, even when he was a young first-class. He’d talk about how he’d get up early so the maid would find he’d dressed himself, or how he’d insist on cleaning his own plates to ease her own job. It did help her, and when he left to live with his uncle, his insistence on his independence helped keep the house from being a wreck.

Primrose hopped off the bed, and ambled across the hall and down the stairs to find Harriet playing one of her video games- the one Snatcher had gotten her for her birthday.

“How’s dad?” Harriet said, pausing her game and perking up. “You were up there a while, was he okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Primrose waved her hand, as though waving Harriet’s worry away. “His fever started to rise again, but it calmed down after a while. He should be fine now, but he should still stay in bed.”

“Oh.” Harriet looked back down at her game. Primrose read Harriet like a book, seeing the concern knitted in the child’s brow. Harriet had hardly seen her father all day, a rarity when Snatcher had a day off. Primrose had been keen on keeping Harriet away from Snatcher, but only because she didn’t want to overexert Snatcher- or get Harriet sick, just in case he’d caught a bad cold mixed with his withdrawal.

“Is there anything you want to eat for dinner?” Primrose sat down by Harriet, wrapping an arm around her. “I’m cooking for you and your dad tonight.”

“Hm.” Harriet, almost cartoonishly, struck a thinking pose before gasping. “Can you make cheeseburgers with gummies?” Her eyes seemed to light up as she asked the question.

She was a bit taken aback by the strange request, but Primrose cleared her throat and patted Harriet’s head. “How about,” Primrose proposed, “I’ll make cheeseburgers, and if you eat all of yours, you can have some gummies.”

“Yay!” Harriet nearly leapt for joy, tossing her game across the couch and onto a pillow as she threw herself over Primrose. “Gummies!”

With an eye roll and a smirk, Primrose stood up and walked over to the refrigerator to confirm, yes, Snatcher had a pack of burger patties and some buns stowed away. Pulling out a pan to fry them, and some oil to keep the pan slick, Primrose began to cook.

How long she cooked for, she didn’t pay attention. She had decided on making four burgers- two for Snatcher, and one for herself and Harriet each- when she heard what sounded like heavy and labored footsteps thumping down the stairs.

She didn’t have to look, Primrose already knew who was limping down the steps. “Luke, go back to bed.”

“No.” Snatcher huffed, leaning against the railing of the stairs for support.

“You need bed-rest.”

“I think couch-rest will do just fine.” Snatcher sighed as he finally finished traversing the stairs, now trying to find a path to walk to the couch while leaning on something. That is, until Harriet raced over to him, nearly tackling him full force onto his back, had it not been for his tight grip on the railing.

“DAD!” Harriet yelled into his sweater, which he’d swapped his previous shirt for when Primrose had left the room. Snatcher couldn’t help but smile, even if he was a bit taken aback by the sudden blow to the gut she’d given him.

“Careful, short-stack, I don’t have my sea legs yet.” Snatcher started to execute his plan to walk around the whole room to make it to the sofa, with Harriet closely clinging to his side. Primrose observed the two, not very pleased with how stubborn Snatcher was being. She held her tongue, though. She didn’t want to chew him out for trying to spend a little time with his daughter. So instead, she quickly turned off the brighter lamps, and drew in a few of the blinds to ease Snatcher’s eyes a bit, before returning to the burgers.

Once they were finished cooking, Primrose hurried to gather the condiments and extras for the burgers, as well as setting the plates. When all was said and done, she’d gotten the whole dinner table and meal set on her own. Just as she was about to call for Snatcher and Harriet, she turned and saw quite possibly the cutest scene in her whole life.

Snatcher was lying on his side and curled under a blanket, holding Harriet firmly against his chest with both arms, while Harriet herself clung around her father’s neck, both of them having seemed to have fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Primrose held in her internal keysmashing and shook Snatcher’s shoulder, a bit sad that she had to interrupt the adorable moment. Snatcher mumbled and stirred, trying to remember what had been going on before he’d fallen asleep. When he noticed the whole table was set and ready, he shook Harriet awake, and, when she refused to move, hoisted her up and tried to carry her to the table, forgetting about his weak state. He nearly tripped, had Primrose not caught him, and walked him over to the table, where he sat himself and Harriet down to eat.

The three dug in, Harriet peering over Snatcher’s shoulder to watch the TV she’d left on, while Snatcher and Primrose talked. What they talked about, Harriet didn’t care to find out, instead in how the heroes in the show were going to save the day today. Harriet looked at her burger- a bit big for herself- and poked her father’s shoulder. With a quick ear flick, Snatcher turned his attention to her. Harriet giggled and poked his face.

“You’ve got crumbs on your chin.” Harriet spoke, in between chuckles.

“Aw, peck, you’re right.” Snatcher grabbed the nearest napkin and rubbed his chin clean. “Alright, now what’d you want from me?”

“Can you cut my burger?” Harriet squeaked, gesturing to the adult-sized burger.

“Okay, kid- even though you could probably eat this as is.” Snatcher grabbed a knife out of his hair-pocket dimension (don’t ask why he has knives there) and cut through Harriet’s burger, slicing it into halves. “That good enough for you, kiddo?”

Harriet took a bite, then nodded. “Yep, thanks dad!” She hummed as she continued to eat her food, not noticing her father’s tremendous smile.

The couch was completely overrun. Snatcher had sprawled himself out along the whole sofa, while Primrose sat by his feet and Harriet perched herself in his arms, a few bags of sea animal gummies in hand, watching the same show as before (though her dad said this was the older version he watched as a kid- it looked a lot cooler than the kiddie one she watched, she thought). She was so sucked into the show, she hadn’t noticed her father start to hum. He himself didn’t notice he was humming, until he felt eyes watching him. He glanced over and saw Primrose, smiling and staring. So, he cleared his throat and pretended he hadn’t met her eyes, nor had he been humming. Nope. Not at all. He hadn’t hummed.

Harriet wasn’t very keen on staying up late, even with the added gummy sugar, especially with the long day she’d had. But she refused to leave Snatcher’s side, insisting on staying with him the rest of the night. She wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out again, and she wanted to help in case he started to not feel good again. So, she stayed glued in his arms, not even moving to change into pyjamas or to brush her teeth. Snatcher had lost any energy he had earlier and didn’t want to squabble with her to get her up, so he instead let her sit and relax. It didn’t take long for Harriet to conk out anyways, quietly snoring on his chest. Snatcher smiled and fixed her hair, pulling her and himself under the blanket, and nestling close.

Primrose noticed she had more room than before, and smiled when she saw Snatcher cuddling his daughter. She noted how late it was getting, and how long she’d been staying already, and, when she thought Snatcher wasn’t watching, she got up and grabbed her keys.

“Where are you going?” He asked, having very well seen her. Primrose froze a little, before relaxing, having thought he was sleeping.

“I was gonna head on home.” Primrose shrugged.

“You don’t want to stay?” Snatcher tilted his head, too tired to act reserved. He twitched a bit, already hungry again- though he shoved the thought aside.

“I thought… I thought you might want me to go, now.”

“Nonsense.” Snatcher patted the couch. “If you want to stay, by all means, please stay.”

Primrose set her keys back down and returned to her previous spot, watching the now-muted TV as Snatcher went back to coddling his kid. She’d occasionally glance over, thinking she was invading their bonding time, before shaking the intrusive thought away and instead focusing on the show. That is, until it ended, and she heard Snatcher once again.

“Com’ere.” Primrose turned to face him as he spoke, clearly exhausted and keeping himself up. When she didn’t respond or act, he spoke a bit more loudly and firmly. “Com’ere.”

She scooted a bit closer, which still wasn’t good enough, apparently. Snatcher grunted and softly grabbed her arm, tugging her into the cuddle pile. She flopped down and into his arms, next to Harriet. Snatcher had a very small but very pleased smile, putting his arm down and around Primrose. She opened her mouth to protest, but found she didn’t have the heart to move or argue with him. They’d somehow managed to argue with each other into exhaustion. Deciding to make the best of her situation, Primrose pulled her arms around both Snatcher and Harriet, using his puffy hair as a pillow, and using his breathing as white noise to fall asleep with.


End file.
